Changing Minds in Hard Times
by Engwaaearien
Summary: Draco is the ultimate weapon, if used properly. Voldemort knows he’s a weapon, but doesn’t know how to properly use him. But still, use him he does. Harry doesn’t know anything about Draco’s potential. Will he listen long enough to learn?
1. Chapter 1

He was huddled in a small nook of Hogwarts, hoping to avoid the notice of both the forces of good and bad. After so long spent among the dark side, he was sure that any person on the side of light would think he was a death eater. But if he were a death eater, would he be there in that hidden nook behind the statue of some famous lady of the past? No, he'd be out there with the other dark cloaked figures, firing painful and deadly curses at the friends of Harry Potter.

He pushed himself further back into the nook as a blur of red practically flew by, perused by a death eater. He peaked out after a moment; the blur of red was a very frightened Seamus Finnigan, who finally slid to a stop when he met with two other members of Dumbledore's Army. They turned to face the death eater and pushed the cloaked figure down the corridor to the right.

A few minutes later, a frightened bunch of first years ran nearby, pursued by a trio of masked figures. Draco recognized two of the trio, but not the third. His father and aunt Bella. Bella was laughing as she fired spell after spell at the fleeing children. As the children ran, one small blond girl slipped and lay sprawled on the ground near his hiding place.

Dare he reach out and pull her in the small nook, to some safety? If his father, or Bella saw him doing such a thing, he would be punished severely, but not killed. Never killed. Voldemort wanted so much more from him. It wasn't like the shell of a man had only wanted to take Draco's virginity from him, or even his freedoms. No, he wanted more then that, as he often told him.

He had to act quickly if he was going to help the girl, before anyone saw him. Acting on a split second decision, he darted out of his hiding spot and pulled the young girl in. She brought wide, fearful eyes up to stare at him, and almost screamed – before Draco managed to firmly cover her mouth with his hand. He brought his other hand up to his lips and then looked back out into the danger filled hallway. The death eaters had passed; they were safe for the moment.

He took his hand from her mouth, and waited a moment until he was sure she wouldn't try to start screaming. She backed up as far as she could to the other side of the alcove, only about two feet further away from him. Her wide, frightened eyes, moved from his face and pale hair to his wadded up black cloak and death eater mask.

"You're Draco Malfoy." She whispered, barely loud enough for him to hear.

He nodded. "Yes…I am."

"You're a death eater."

He glared at her. "No, I'm NOT." He whispered harshly. "No more so then anyone else who is hiding from those bastards, or fighting them, for that matter."

"Is that why you saved me?"

"I saved you because you needed help, and I was here and able to do it."

"Oh."

They sat in silence until the sounds of battle died down, and Order Members and Members of Dumbledore's Army began sweeping the halls for any remaining death eaters. Harry's Marauder's map was in full use, it seemed, and had led quite a few people, including Harry Potter, to Draco's present location.

His wand was pointed into the nook, towards Draco. "Malfoy, we know you're in there. Release the girl and come out. Drop your wand on the ground and kick it to me."

Draco nodded to the girl who stood shakily and hurried out to her saviors. She promptly did the right thing and began telling Harry about how Draco had saved her. 'Must be a Gryffindor.' Draco thought as he stepped out of the nook himself, while carrying his unwanted cloak and mask. He dropped his wand and kicked it over towards Harry as the Hero of Gryffindor commanded, and stood there silently waiting while the blond girl continued her assurances that Draco had done her no harm.

Harry stooped to pick up the blond man's wand and pocketed it before looking back at the young first year girl who was practically spouting Malfoy's virtues. His eyes moved back over to Draco, down to his reviled cloak and death eater mask, before turning to Tonks and asking her to take Draco to the room with the other prisoners.

The blonds' face and eyes radiated panic. "Potter! I need to talk to you…please. Privately if at all possible."

The Boy-Who-Lived to save the world looked at him and turned back to face him. "Why should I give you even one second of my time Malfoy?"

"Because…I'm not a death eater."

Someone coughed, though the sound that resulted sounded an awful lot like, "Bullshit!" The corners of Harry's mouth turned up in a slight smile.

"I'm serious, Potter, check me for the dark mark…I don't have it!"

"Fine, Malfoy. Say we check you for the mark and we don't find it. What do you want us to do about it? Surely you don't think we'll let you free?"

"No…protection, Potter. I need protection. Voldemort will want me back…he always comes back for me."

Harry's voice was deep and even. "Why?"

"I'd rather not talk about that right now." Draco glanced down at the ground, feeling embarrassed to tell Harry Potter that someone as proud and pureblooded as Draco Malfoy was Voldemort's sex toy and hopeful weapon.

Harry sighed, glanced around the group, ran a hand through his messy, sweat soaked hair. Then he turned back to Tonk's and muttered something to her that Draco didn't hear. She nodded, stepped forward, and took her blond cousin by the arm firmly. "Come on, Cousin. I'll take you to one of the guestrooms until Harry and the others can spare some time to see you."

Draco nodded, relieved to know that he wouldn't have to go in the same room as the death eaters. For now at least.


	2. Chapter 2

A few hours later found Draco in the bathroom of the guestroom he had been put in, scrubbing off what felt like layers and lay

A few hours later found Draco in the bathroom of the guestroom he had been put in, scrubbing off what felt like layers and layers of accumulated grime. He knew it was all in his head, but every time Voldemort had touched him. Every day he spent around death eaters, including his father, made him feel just a little dirtier. He also knew that he had probably scrubbed off the top layer or two of his skin, but he felt better.

Now he sat huddled in the shower, feeling the water starting to cool down from the almost scalding hot temperature it had been. He was locked in this room, which he knew had been heavily shielded against his escape. Any wandless magic he knew would do no good in here, and his wand was still with Harry. The only window in the room was tightly locked and had a charm on it so if it was broken or opened, guards would run in instantly. There were at least two members of the Order outside the door right now, in case he did do something stupid.

He hadn't let himself do it before, in front of his father, death eaters, or Voldemort. But here, sitting on the hard tile in the still running shower, he let himself cry. His mother was dead. She had opposed Voldemort using her son as a weapon against the side of light. She wanted him to be happy and loved, not miserable with the semblance of love. Lucius, his father, had only glanced at his dying wife. He had quickly taken up with another male death eater. One Draco didn't care to look at, or know.

Lucius wanted nothing more then for Draco to be everything his Dark Lord wanted. It was already clear he couldn't be exactly what Lucius had originally planned for him to be. Draco wasn't naturally cruel, heartless, or evil. He threw up after killing people. He beat himself up for it afterwards – but time and time again, he would try to be what his father wanted him to be. He was a failure.

Draco pulled his long, soaked hair back from his face, smoothing it like he had when he was much younger. First year was a much easier time. His father hadn't expected him to be so much then.

Thinking about his father brought him back to the topic of the death eaters, and the Dark Lord. If they hadn't noticed that Draco hadn't come back with them yet, they would soon. Lucius had practically begged his Lord to allow Draco to prove himself on this raid of Hogwarts. If Draco had succeeded in blasting children across rooms without feeling, or killing Order members with ruthless efficiency, his father would welcome him back as his heir, once the Dark Lord was done using him to defeat Harry Potter.

But Draco had failed once again. Instead of joining the death eaters in their "fun," he had hidden himself as soon as possible. And instead of returning and begging the Dark Lord for forgiveness, he had instead begged Harry Potter for shelter and protection from his own kind. But were they really his kind?

He was startled from his thoughts when the sound of someone clearing their throat came from nearby. He quickly moved to wash any remaining tears from his face, and slicked back his hair once again. There was nothing he could do about the redness that was most likely flushing his face, not this quickly.

He turned his head, and found Harry perched on the sink. Luckily the sink seemed to securely hold the tall, muscular boy, though it was only attached by the back to the wall. The brunette looked uncomfortable; he ran his hand through his messy hair once again and looked away. Clearly he wasn't entirely comfortable walking into a bathroom that contained a crying, naked man who was easily perceived as a death eater.

"So…um…you said you wanted to talk to me in private." He said, trying to look anywhere but at the naked man in the shower. Not that he could see anything important, seeing as how Draco was conveniently positioned to cover just such areas of potential embarrassment. Not that Draco had anything to be embarrassed about.

Draco nodded, but quickly realized the other man hadn't seen it – since he was still looking away. He sighed.

"Yes. I wanted to ask you for protection, and sanctuary, if at all possible. You see, if the Dark Lord gets me again," he shuddered to himself, and then tried to pass it off as being cold from the now chilly spray of water. He stood and turned off the tap before turning to face Harry Potter.

Harry turned, caught a glimpse of Draco's more then sufficient manhood, and turned away again, flushing a deep red. He grabbed a nearby towel and tossed it in the direction of the blond, trying to avoid looking that way at all costs.

Draco caught the towel and dried off with it, while smirking the whole time. He didn't hate the brunette anymore, but damned if he didn't want to make him twitch. He briefly considered using the towel for his hair instead of covering the area the other man clearly was avoiding looking at, but he restrained himself and tied the towel around his waist.

Then he stepped out of the shower. Finally, Harry turned to face him, and noticed his red, blotchy face, scrubbed red skin, and water-wrinkled fingers. "Just how long have you been in there?" he said, clearly meaning the shower.

"Got in just after I was put in here. Don't know how long it's been."

Harry's eyes widened. That had been over three hours ago. "Well…you were saying?"

"Oh…yes. I don't want to go back to the Dark Lord. He's been using me ever since my father gave me to him. He says that if the prophecy about me is true, then I'm just as useful to him as I would be to you."

Harry looked confused. "Prophecy? About you?"

Draco sighed. Clearly this was going to be a long conversation.


	3. Chapter 3

Several minutes later, Draco was sitting in a chair in the main room, still wearing the towel around his waist, and surrounded

Several minutes later, Draco was sitting in a chair in the main room, still wearing the towel around his waist, and surrounded by several Order members and Harry Potter. They were arguing about whether or not Draco was a death eater or not, and also about whether or not every word that came out of his mouth was a lie.

Draco huffed, looked around the room, and finally settled from crossing his arms and scowling. It was obvious he didn't have the dark mark. Here he sat, wearing only a towel. His arms, and most of the rest of his body, for that matter, were clearly visible.

"Malfoy, why don't you have the dark mark?" Hermione asked. Finally someone was addressing him, not acting like he was just a piece of furniture to be discussed and poked at.

"Because, as I have said before, the prophecy warns against it."

"But why, Malfoy?"

"Because I already have a Master's mark. It's just not Voldemort's."

At those words, everyone in the room burst into speculation. Draco felt several eyes traveling his body. He tried his best to hold still, looking uninterested and uncaring.

"Where is this mark?" Harry asked, almost as if he dreaded to know the answer. Clearly, if Draco was sitting there practically naked, and there were no glamours or shielding charms on him – since Moody had insisted on checking him for them – the mark could only be in the space of skin covered by the towel the blond man wore.

"It's on my lower back." Draco replied, watching Harry for any reaction. To his credit, the other man didn't twitch, though he did look distinctly uncomfortable.

"Can you show us, Malfoy?" asked Hermione.

Draco nodded and stood up, turning around to present his back to the group. He lowered the towel slightly, revealing both the small almost inch sized mark, and the curved top of his round, firm ass.

Harry almost didn't know what to look at. The small mark, or the area slightly lower. Though he wouldn't admit it, he was more drawn to the skin below the mark then the mark itself. He shifted uncomfortably, hoping nobody noticed the slight bulge in his muggle jeans, or the trouble he was having focusing on the matter at hand.

The mark was red and gold. Two proudly standing golden lions propped up the shield, which was divided into four sections, the top left and bottom right of which were red, while the top right and bottom left were golden yellow. On top sat an almost metallic golden crown, on which perched a practically shimmering white stag.

Ron leaned in, seeming to forget whose ass it was he was so close to. "I know what that that is!" he spoke excitedly, "That's the Potter crest! Harry…do you know what that means?"

Harry just looked confused.

"It means," Hermione interrupted, "that Draco belongs to you, Harry. You are his master."

Harry jerked his gaze away from Hermione, looking embarrassed and a little more then disagreeable. "No way! There is no way that I am Draco's master! I mean, we hate each other! And I don't want a thing to do with him!"

Draco had turned to face them again when Harry began his outburst. "Oh really now," he smirked, obviously eyeing Harry's crotch. "I couldn't tell."

Harry glared at him. Then he turned to stalk out of the room, but was met with the rest of the Order, standing there staring at him.

"Harry, I think you owe it to Draco, and yourself, to listen to what he has to say about this prophecy." Tonks said, placing her hand on the brunettes shoulder. "Besides, if it can help us in any way, we need to know."

Harry's shoulders slumped. "Fine. But I want the rest of you out before I will hear a word of it."

The rest of the Order looked disappointed, but slowly filed out.

Finally, Hermione left and shut the door behind her, leaving the brunette and the blond alone in the room.

Draco moved away from the chair and climbed onto the bed, hardly caring that Harry could probably see his ass when the towel moved. Harry swallowed and then followed Draco, but stopped at the end of the bed. He sat himself on the edge, and looked away again.

The blond sighed. "Potter, if we are going to have any sort of relationship, even if it is just the business sort, you have to be able to look at me."

"That would be easier if you were wearing pants, Malfoy."

"Oh, would it? Don't you think you could see my ass just as well through a pair of muggle jeans?"

"I don't WANT to see your ass, Malfoy." He tried to sound certain, but he blushed and faded out at the end of his statement, which he knew made his real feelings show.

"Well, if you happen to have some clothes laying around here that you would rather I wear, I will be happy to put them on for you, Harry."

Harry stopped, and glared at the blond again. "I wish you wouldn't call me that."

"What? You don't want me to use your name?"

"I will always be Potter to you, Malfoy. That will never change."

"Perhaps." Draco replied, smiling enigmatically. "Perhaps not."


	4. Chapter 4

Draco was still locked in the guest room, but now, to Harry's obvious relief, was wearing clothing

Draco was still locked in the guest room, but now, to Harry's obvious relief, was wearing clothing.

Harry had been more then surprised when Draco had, without any fuss, put on muggle jeans and a t-shirt. In fact, he seemed like he was more comfortable in these clothes.

When Draco was dressed, and had used a nearby comb to get the tangles out of his hair, he turned towards the fire, and then looked over at the pile of death eater clothing he had arrived in. With a disgusted look on his face, he waved his hand and the old clothing flew across the room and into the blazing fireplace. He watched it burn before turning back to face Harry Potter.

"I know you don't trust me, Potter. I don't expect you to. At least not right away. I just hope you believe me when I say I'm not a death eater. I've done horrible things just to survive –to try to fit in- but it wasn't who I am. I want you to know that I am willing to do anything to help you win this war. It's what I was meant to do."

"You mean the prophecy, don't you?"

"Yes. My mother went to a seer when she was pregnant. I was her miracle child. My parents never expected to be able to reproduce, after my mother was cursed by Voldemort as a punishment to my father for a failed mission he was sent on. Voldemort knew how much my father wanted, no, needed an heir. Anyhow, the seer told my mother that I was meant to be a weapon for the side of light. Another child would be born, a boy who would save the world, and he would need me to access his greatest power."

Draco brought his eyes up to meet Harry's, and saw disbelief written on his face, and in those unbelievably green eyes.

"I know you don't want to believe me. But I have known since the day we met in Madam Malkin's robe shop, that I am meant to help you." The truth was a bit different, but Harry would be in no mood to hear the full truth.

"So you just want us to keep you from Voldemort for now?"

"In so many words, yes."

"Well, since we can't turn you back over to the death eaters anyway, and increase their numbers by even one more, I suppose that's not too much to ask. But as for not keeping you in the same rooms as them, why shouldn't we?"

"Potter, you couldn't even begin to understand what they would do to me. What they have done to me."

"Then tell me, Malfoy."

Draco sighed, turned back to the fireplace, and shook his head to clear it from the surge of bad memories thinking of the past evoked.

"They raped me, Potter. All of them. Voldemort too. He owns me. He told them they could use me, for whatever they liked. My own father raped me as the first part of the initiation into the death eaters – before they realized that they couldn't give me the dark mark or I would be useless to Voldemort as anything other then a sex toy."

"Malfoy, I had no idea." Harry said. He wanted to step foreword and take the other man into his arms, to help him forget the painful memories. But he held himself where he was.

"It doesn't matter, Potter. Just don't put me in with them…please. They wouldn't hesitate to use me again."

"I'll make sure you're kept in this room."

"Thank you, Potter."


	5. Chapter 5

Draco was passed out on the bed, the clothing Harry had given him carefully laid out so as not to wrinkle it. He may not be a true Malfoy any longer, but that didn't mean he didn't want to look his best. Especially for Harry.

He was dreaming the same dream he had almost every night. Harry was there in the soft bed beside him, naked and clearly unapologetic about that fact. The brunette leaned over him and gently placed a soft kiss on his lips. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that for." Dream Harry said, smiling softly.

Draco sighed and smiled happily. Dream Harry was making love to him, making the blond come so hard it was painful. He could feel the brunette's seed spurting inside of him. It was everything he wanted it to be. How it should be.

And then things changed. Harry's loving face and sparkling green eyes morphed into the features of Voldemort. His face contorted with excitement and hate. His dead eyes glowing excitedly.

"Dreaming the same sappy things, young Malfoy?" Voldemort asked as he continued to thrust, roughly. Voldemort wasn't part of his dream. He was real. Inside Draco's unconscious mind.

"No…get out…you're not my master. I don't belong to you. Let go!" He muttered, his voice rising to a loud plea.

Voldemort laughed. "Oh but you are mine. I will have you back. I will find you, young Malfoy." Suddenly the dream was dissipating, and Draco sat up in the bed covered in sweat. He fought his hair out of his face and covered his face with his hands, trying to get calm again.

A nearby noise told him that someone was there, and he knew it had to be Harry.

"Bad dream?"

Yes, it was Harry. Draco slid his hands down his face and replied "Yeah. A bit of an understatement."

"Want to talk about it?"

Draco blushed. He would rather reenact the part before Voldemort burst into it. He shook his head.

"No, but thanks, Potter."

Harry nodded and turned to leave. Draco stopped him. "Potter?"

"Yes, Malfoy?"

"Voldemort was in my dream. He knows I'm here."

"He can't have you, Malfoy. Not while I'm around." With that said, Harry turned and left the room.


	6. Chapter 6

Draco was once again wearing nothing but a towel, surrounded by Order members

Draco was once again wearing nothing but a towel, surrounded by Order members. They wanted to reexamine his body for other markings. Moody still refused to believe Draco wasn't a death eater, and Draco refused to admit he was.

So he sat, with his arms crossed, and an expression of disgust on his face. He had to endure being turned from side to side, being poked and prodded, while Moody tested him with spell after spell for any hidden dark marks.

"For the last time, I don't have the dark mark! I'm not a death eater!"

"So you keep saying, boy. Now hold still so I can see what you're hiding."

The blond growled as the crazy Order member dragged him up from the chair, twisted him around, and forced him over the seat of the chair in a position many children who have been spanked know very well. The towel slipped to the floor, leaving the blond man completely naked, with this ass clearly exposed to all the Order members in the room.

"Clearly you faked this mark somehow." Moody grumbled as he prodded the inch long mark of the Potter crest with his wand.

Draco struggled to get up, fighting against the indignity the man was inflicting on him. "How dare you…" he started, his eyes catching Harry's as he tried to stand up. Harry was staring at the sight before him, torn between lust and rage that someone besides him was touching Draco in such a way. Of course, he refused to move, in case he let his feelings slip.

Moody held him down, binding Draco's arms to the legs of the chair so he couldn't get up again. After tucking his wand into his robes, he began to poke around the mark with his fingers.

"No! Don't touch it! Nooooooooooooooo!" Draco began to scream as Moody prodded the mark directly. He glanced from the screaming young man writhing against the chair to the mark, and then prodded at it again. Draco's screaming got louder. Clearly the mark wasn't meant to be touched by him.

Hermione pushed through the crowd holding an old book, and grabbed Harry's arm with the other. "Harry! You have to touch his mark! It's the only way to stop his pain."

Harry stepped forward, ready to do anything to stop the other man's screaming. "Harry! Wait!" Hermione practically screamed.

"What?" Harry asked, turning back to the bushy haired brunette woman from where he knelt beside the writhing, screaming, naked blond man.

"If you touch his mark, it means you accept him. It means you want him to be your property, and your mate." She explained loudly, over the screaming.

Harry stared at her. Then he looked back at Draco. The blond had tears running down his cheeks now. He sobbed, twisted against the bonds, and then heaved, throwing up all over the floor.

The brunette grimaced, and wondered if he was ready to accept the blond as his mate. It was clear he wanted Draco, and he knew the Slytherin would probably be up for it, but still…it was a hard decision.

He turned back to Hermione. "So what do we do?"

"The only other way to stop his pain is to knock him out, Harry."

He nodded and turned back to Draco, pulling his wand out with a flourish. "Stupify!"

Draco stopped screaming. Everyone in the room looked visibly relieved.

Harry released the bonds that tied Draco's hands to the chair and gently picked up the unconscious, naked blond man and took him to the bed, placing him on it. He cast a quick cleaning spell and then pulled the covers up over Draco.

He turned back to the others.

"No one is EVER to touch him like that again. Do you all understand me?" His eyes seemed to glow with rage.

They all nodded.


	7. Chapter 7

Draco woke up not knowing what time it was, and for a moment, he didn't even know where he was

Draco woke up not knowing what time it was, and for a moment, he didn't even know where he was. Then he remembered. He remembered Moody touching his mark, and then the blinding pain. He remembered throwing up, and he remembered Harry not wanting to accept the bond.

He sat up in the bed. He didn't remember getting into bed. Somebody must have put him there. And cleaned him up, he thought as he touched his hair which should have been crusty with vomit. Was it Harry?

He shrugged to himself and climbed out of the bed slowly, heading to the bathroom again. Once he had relieved his bladder, he turned on the shower and stepped under the hot spray.

It was almost a relief that he was already naked; it made it so much easier to do these morning activities. Especially with his sore muscles, and sore throat, which was probably from the screaming and the bile he had brought up when he had thrown up earlier. It couldn't have been food; Draco hadn't eaten in about three days now.

But again his thoughts returned to Harry refusing to touch his mark. Did that mean Harry would refuse him forever? Did Harry really want nothing to do with him? But if that was true, then why did Harry stare at his ass whenever he could? And why did he get embarrassed when Draco was naked. People who weren't interested in something didn't get that embarrassed over it.

So that had to mean Harry did like him. But if that was true, then why hadn't he accepted the bond when Draco was in pain? Draco groaned and leaned against the shower wall. Thinking about the brunette hero had done what it always did to him. Draco's cock stood straight and proud in front of him.

He sighed, shook his head, and went to the task before him. He allowed his mind to drift back to the times in Hogwarts he had snuck into the Gryffindor locker rooms to watch Harry in the shower. Luckily Harry had been one of the last to shower, since he took the initiative to make sure the equipment was properly put away.

Draco loved watching the tall brunette Gryffindor stroking his own hard cock in the shower. He often wondered just what it was Harry was thinking about when he did that. Probably that redheaded weasel girl. Thinking about Ginny Weasley almost turned Draco off, before he remembered what he had been focusing on.

He slid his left hand down to cup his balls, while his right hand ran along his hard length. He was imagining that Harry was there, just outside the open door of the bathroom, trying not to let Draco know he was watching. Draco groaned and began stroking faster.

He thought about Harry waiting, watching, and stroking his own cock in time with Draco's own thrusts into his hand. Those bright green eyes sparkling with interest and lust. His soft, pink tongue darting out to moisten his lips, before using his teeth to tug on his lower lip with a look of indecision. Still, he continued to stroke.

Then, as he felt his own balls tightening, he imagined Harry pushing him down onto his knees, pushing his legs apart, and gently running a finger over the mark on Draco's back. He imagined Harry whispering a spell to clean, lube, and stretch him, and then pushing his long, hard cock into Draco's tightness.

Draco couldn't stop himself. He came hard, with a soft cry of Harry's name, and then slid down the shower wall, unable to hold himself up anymore.

--X--

What Draco didn't know, was that Harry was standing just out of sight, outside the bathroom door. He was busily fisting his own cock, watching Draco moan and tug on his own sack. And when Draco came, so did Harry.


	8. Chapter 8

Harry sat in the round Gryffindor common room near the fireplace in a large, squishy, red armchair

Harry sat in the round Gryffindor common room near the fireplace in a large, squishy, red armchair. He was leaning forward with his head in his hands, trying to think of any reason he could use to explain to himself why he had just done that.

First he told everyone in the room – practically all the active Order members – that he wanted nothing to do with Draco. Then he made a fool of himself by demanding nobody touch the blond like that ever again. And THEN he had stood outside the door, watching while Draco touched himself in ways Harry should have never seen, AND he enjoyed it. More then that, he had wanked off to his own internal vision of the blond.

What would it be like, he asked himself, if he could be in the same room with Draco without feeling any fear or embarrassment? What would it be like to be able to stand naked before the blond, and to take in the view of that pale, firm body, gloriously naked and unashamed? Could Harry ever let himself go, even that much? To admit to himself that he wanted the Slytherin man. Oh hell. He couldn't deny that.

If being in the vicinity of Draco made him hard, there was no way to deny that he wanted Draco. If every night his dreams turned into fantasies of touch, smell, and sound – all involving the blond Slytherin – it was no use.

He shook his head, as if to clear it, and moved to stand up. He turned, caught a glimpse of black against the stone and found Hermione perched a few steps up on the girls' staircase. He caught her eye, and looked away. The look on her face clearly stated that she knew what he was thinking about.

"Harry, there is nothing to be ashamed about for being gay. People all around the world are gay. I know, you think people won't accept it. The Boy-Who-Lived, their chosen Savior. But Harry, haven't you thought that maybe this was meant to be? I mean, the prophecy that Malfoy was talking about…I asked one of our contacts in the Order to search the prophecies the Ministry has collected…and it was there, Harry. Malfoy wasn't lying. And anyways, who cares what people think. You can change their minds Harry. You always find a way to do that." She seemed to finish, waited a few moments, before standing, sighing, and turning to go up the stairs, her hands catching on the doorway.

"Harry, it's your choice, and it's your life. If you want Malfoy, you can have him. I'm sure he wouldn't object. You know you'll always have your friends. Don't be afraid to find someone who's just a bit more."

By the time Harry had assimilated what Hermione had said, she was gone. And even if he had anything else to say about the topic, he couldn't follow her to continue the conversation. He wasn't stupid enough to try to climb the staircase, like several other boys had, and risk the quick and painful trip down the slide that had formerly been the stairs.

Now, filled with indecision, Harry sat back down in the chair, and resumed his former position. He didn't doubt that Hermione was right. Hermione was always right. If he wanted Draco – which he did – and if he had the guts to say so – which he wasn't sure of yet – he could have what he wanted.

A relationship with someone who didn't base their love for him on the actions he had committed from necessity, luck, and chance. Ginny had started her crush on him when she realized she had a chance with a hero. Every time he succeeded past another struggle, she idolized him more. Not for who he was, because she had never spent any real time learning who he was. She wanted Harry Potter the Hero. She didn't want Harry Potter the man.

But Draco, Draco wanted Harry Potter the man. He didn't care that Harry was a Wizarding hero. He didn't even seem to care about the prophecy, although he had made it clear that he believed what his mother had told him when she said he had to find Harry and help him. Oddly enough, Harry even had begun to trust the formerly untrustworthy Slytherin.

Harry felt his stomach grumble and heard its loud noise of displeasure. It was reminding him that he had forgotten to eat lately. People brought him food, and he looked at it, wanted it even. But he couldn't spare a moment of thought to eat. Then he realized that nobody had said a word to him about feeding Draco. And that led him to an idea.


	9. Chapter 9

Draco was lying on the bed, stark naked, as usual, staring up at the ceiling of the room he had been put in

Draco was lying on the bed, stark naked, as usual, staring up at the ceiling of the room he had been put in. Wanking only took up so much time, and around this time of day it wasn't irregular for someone to check in on him. All it had taken was his cousin walking in on him spread-eagle on the bed in mid-orgasm, calling Harry's name, to remind him that this wasn't a pleasure holiday, and he should remember to be presentable when people might be expected.

The witch's face turned almost the same color as her insanely pink hair before she turned and marched out of the room, tight lipped and adamant in refusing to tell anyone what she had seen. Of course, the rumors on just what she could have seen were now circulating.

Draco felt little embarrassment. Slytherins didn't care what body parts other people saw. They didn't care what other people thought, either. What he did care about, was possibly dowsing the tiny spark of understanding between himself and Harry.

He propped himself up on his elbows as he heard a noise at the door. Someone seemed to be fumbling for the doorknob, and having a bit of a problem with that. Then voices went back and forth outside the door, and the door was finally opened. Harry stepped in, holding a tray complete with two full plates, tea, and various other tasty things. He smiled at the man who had opened the door – one of Draco's two guards – and moved out of the doors path so the man could shut it.

Once they were alone, Harry made his way carefully to the table that was set up near the blazing fireplace, and set down the tray. He then began the process of busying himself with setting out the food and such. When he was done, he sat, looked over the food, then over where Draco was still watching him from his propped up position on the bed.

"Um…I thought you would be hungry, and I hadn't eaten yet, so I thought we could eat together."

Draco's left eyebrow rose up, and he seemed to consider the man at the table before he casually got up, in all his nude glory, and walked towards Harry.

Harry coughed, trying to avoid looking at the blonds' nakedness, and then cleared his throat. "Mind putting on some pants, at least?"

Draco leaned toward the empty chair, settling his elbows on its backing of and facing Harry. He looked coolly at the other man, as if waiting for his cue.

For Harry, the silence seemed to ring. He glanced up at the blonds' face, then down again at his plate. "Erm…Malfoy?" He glanced up. The other man was still there, calmly assessing him. Suddenly, Harry knew what the man wanted. A concession, of sorts.

He sighed. "Fine. Draco it is."

The blond smiled. It practically lit the room.


	10. Chapter 10

Lunch had never been so enjoyable before, though Draco was sure he'd tasted better

Lunch had never been so enjoyable before, though Draco was sure he'd tasted better. After Harry had agreed to stop calling him Malfoy, they had started talking. The subjects they discussed were nothing to really think on. It seemed only fitting that they spend time re-assessing each other, and learning things they previously hadn't bothered to learn.

For instance, Draco now knew that Harry was quite the collector of rubber duckies, though he claimed it was only for Mr. Weasley, who was intensely interested in all things muggle. Draco also had learned that ever since Harry had gone through the terrors of Dolores Umbridge's tyranny, he couldn't look at a magic enhanced kitten picture without finding the fastest way to distroy it. That had led to Harry having to hand over quite a few galleons on his one and only antique hunting experience with Hermione, since he had smashed the store's entire collection of merchendise covered in mewling kittens with one burst of wild magic.

Of course, nobody could blame Harry for wanting to distroy those things. And only the fact that some of the items had been worth a lot caused the store owner to even suggest the idea of payment for the loss. Harry was repentant, and more then willing to pay.

Draco felt a twinge of guilt at the fact that he had aided that woman in her hypocracy, but Harry quickly swept it aside. Harry refused to live in the past. Every day was a new day, and though he wouldn't give up a clear shot at revenge on some people, he was certainly not going to dwell on it.

Harry turned back to the tray of food, and quickly located the tea, sugar cubes, and milk. He made himself a cup with a bit of milk, and looked to Draco for what he might want in his own tea.

"Two sugars and a little milk." The blond said, lounging against the chair in a relaxed position, still shirtless. Harry nodded, prepared the cup of steaming tea, and handed it to the other man. Having magic, and being able to use it for simple things like keeping the tea warm, was a wonderful thing to the man still fairly new to the world of magic.

Then it was Harry's turn to learn more about Draco. He leaned back and watched the Slytherin prince sip his tea, his mouth turning up at the corners in a small smile. He set down his teacup and rested his hands on his legs, trying to look nonchalant, though in reality he was wiping his sweaty palms on the fabric of his jeans.

Draco opened his mouth to speak, but suddenly felt as if he could speak no lies, or even his normal half-truths. He closed his mouth and raised his eyebrows, looking across the table at Harry with open suspicion.

The brunette Gryffindor smiled winningly. "Silly me. It looks like I used the sugar mixed with the tell-all serum Hermione developed. It's so much more effective then veristserum, wouldn't you know."

Draco almost laughed. Harry, the Hero of the side of light, Dumbledore's Golden Boy, had slipped him a potion. Could he get any more Slytherin? He leaned back into his seat and smiled pleasently.

"Why Harry, I didn't think you had it in you." Then he did laugh. A genuine, happy laugh. What did it matter if Harry slipped him a potion or two? At least he knew Harry cared enough to find out the whole truth.

"So then, what is it you want to know so badly?"

"What's the full extent of the propecy about you and me?" Harry asked, sitting up straighter and leaning forward slightly.

Draco sighed and leaned back against the chair. He should have known.

"You might not like it, Harry. I don't know how much you know about Wizarding traditions and such, but I'm sure you don't know this much."

Harry stared at him, looked down at his tea, away to the window, back to his tea.

"I need to know, Draco. I need to know what has to happen. If you are my weapon against Voldemort, I need to know how to…" He swallowed hard, "use you."

Harry's eyes met frantically with Draco's as he tried to explain. "Not that I want to use you Draco, please, you have to believe that I would never do what Voldemort or the death eaters did to you and…" Draco cut him short as he stood, walked the perhaps three feet to get around the table to Harry, and pressed his lips to those of the paranoid man still seated.

"Harry, don't worry about it. I know you wouldn't hurt me intensionally."

The blond pulled away, gently caressing the other man's face, watching him with his closed eyes, flushed face, and heavy breathing. He was beautiful. Even more so then the man Draco had fantasized over since first year, or watched in the locker room in later years. Or maybe he just thought that because he finally had an excuse to touch the man of his dreams without being punched out or yelled at.

He leaned in, intent on kissing those tender, slightly reddened lips again. He got so close, their breath intermingled, smelling of spiced tea and the ginger cookies Mrs. Weasley had made. Draco pressed his lips down onto the waiting ones below him, and groaned encouragement when a hand that wasn't his own began to unzip his muggle jeans and reached in to bring out his hardening length.

Harry had never felt so brazen before. Touching parts of another man that caused an answering tingle in his own parts. He hadn't conciously thought about doing this, here and now, but oh, how he wanted it.

He was just about to wrap his palm around the thick shaft of Draco's manhood, when the door swung open and Tonk's rushed in, halfway into some sentence she was trying to tell to Harry. Her eyes grew wide just as she was pushed aside, and there stood Mad-Eye Moody, his crazy eye almost spinning as it took in the situation. He raised his wand and fired a quick but extreamly powerful Expelliarmus at the standing blond man.

Draco went flying towards the window, his cock still hanging out of his jeans. He first hit the wall, hard, and then dropped painfully onto the floor. He groaned and tried to move, to get up, to say something even. But he was nearing unconciousness.

Harry sat up as soon as Draco's body was forcfully propelled away from him. His erection was emediatly gone. All he wanted to to make sure Draco was ok, exact his revenge on Moody for bursting in unannouced, and then make everyone leave the room so he could tend to the blond's aches and pains.

The eyes of everyone in the room watched as Harry stood quickly and ran over to the blond. "Draco! Are you ok? Can you hear me? Can you sqeeze my hand?" He gently squeezed at the other man's hand, hoping for some reciprocation. There was a slight movement of Draco's fingers, it could have been only a twitch, or a spasm of his muscles, but Harry chose to cling to it as if it were a sure sign Draco had heard him.

He looked up. Moody was the closest, within four feet to Draco's prone body. "Moody! How dare you! Get out. Get out all of you!" Harry almost screamed.

The older man looked down on the pair with a hint of revulsion. "Boy, he's tricked you good. He's a dark wizard, Harry. Doesn't care about you more then what he needs to to get what he wants."

"No! You're wrong! He was telling me the truth…I slipped him Hermione's tell-all serum. He wasn't lying."

"He has, boy. Now step aside. You've had your chance to get the truth from him. Now leave it to someone who knows what they are doing." He pushed Harry aside, ignoring the younger man's protests, and carried the unconcious Draco from the room.


	11. Chapter 11

Draco came into conciousness slowly

Draco came into conciousness slowly. His eyesight was blurry, and his head ached something awful. He tried to move his arms; they felt stiff and sore. After twisting his body as much as he could, he realized he must be tied to a chair with his arms twisted and tied behind his back.

He gazed out over the new room, his grey eyes hesitent. He didn't recognize the room he was in, but he was sure he was still in Hogwarts. He wasn't sure quite how he had gotten there, but slowly he remembered the compromising position he had been caught in with Harry. However, he couldn't remember what happened after the door swung open, and Tonks stood in the doorway, looking very much like she had the time she walked in on Draco in the final stages of his wanking session several days back.

He shook his head to clear it, and turned suddenly towards a noise coming from behind him. He contorted himself as much as he could, trying to see over his shoulder. A door was opening, causing a draft of cold, damp air to hit Draco's body – drawing his attention to the fact that he was once again naked.

He blanched as he saw who had come in the door. Alastor Moody swept in as quickly as he could with his odd hobbling walk. He brought his cane forcefully against the back of the chair Draco was in with a loud "thwack."

"I see you woke up, young Malfoy."

Draco tried to back the chair away from the man now before him.

"Don't touch me. Where's Harry?"

"Ah, Harry, now is he? What happened to you calling him Potter? Eh?"

"That's none of your business."

"Is it not? Well, I'll get it from you somehow. If you wont volunteer the information, we'll do this my way." Moody said, turning away to pick up a small vial off the table nearby.

"But surely you know Veritaserum when you see it, being the potions prodegy Snape always claimed you were."

Just then Hermione and Harry burst through the door, followed by Tonks and Remus.

"Moody, get away from Draco." Harry said, his eyes blazing anger. His wand was out and at the ready, and he looked more then ready to use it.

"He's bewtiched you, boy. Surely you noticed how quickly your feelings changed when he came around. Suddenly you're willing to lower your standards and trust little death eater junior here. Don't you find that odd?"

"Draco's not a death eater. He told me that and I believe him."

"See! He's got ya right where he wants ya!" He turned back to Draco and bent over a bit, so as to be even closer to the younger blond's face. "But you'll tell us the truth after some veritaserum, won't ya?" He uncorked the vial and pushed the thing past Malfoys tightly closed lips and drained it into his mouth. Then he clamped his hand over Draco's mouth and pushed his head back, pulling the vial from his lips while forcing the man to swallow the liquid in his mouth.

Draco coughed and sputtered as the hand was removed from his mouth. He felt an odd sensation coming over him, and suddenly thought about the tell-all serum that Harry had slipped him in his tea. How would that mix with the veritaserum? He looked up in a panic to find Hermione's face a mask of worry. So she had thought of that too.

Before long, Draco felt detached from the situation. He could still speak, and hear, but it was like he was a spectator, watching and hearing himself answer the questions Moody asked him – no matter how revolting or embarrassing the answers were.

Now everybody in the room knew Draco had killed before, had been raped repeatedly, and had been forced to be Voldemort's whore.

Then he started in on the prophecy. And Moody got answers, whether they were the ones he wanted or not. Yes, the prophecy was real. Yes, Draco intended to see the prophecy fufilled. No, the prophecy didn't include killing Harry, or turning him in to the Dark Lord for whatever punishment the evil creature saw fit.

And finally, that the prophecy fortold that the child of a cursed womb would be born who would bring forth life from it's own body. The child resulting would be the seed of one of the greatest wizards of all time; one who was fated to defeat the Darkness. When the seed of the great wizard mingled with the power of the child of the cursed womb, the greatest weapon against evil would be produced, and the side of Light would triumph.

Few people got the insinuations made in Draco's words right away. Hermione, of course, was the first to put it all together. Of course, she had been reading up on the subject, and knew a bit more about the prophecy.

Harry was next to understand. Draco was the child of a cursed womb. Harry himself was the one fated to defeat the Darkness. And if they made a child, somehow that would produce the greatest weapon against evil, and the side of light would win.

Hermione knew that the greatest weapon had to be love. That's what Dumbledore had told Harry he had a lot of, and was what he was protected by. If Harry as a baby could be protected from Voldemort's wrath by the love of his mother, what could love do if a powerful, nearly grown wizard was in possession of it?

Moody was frustraited. He had used the veritaserum, so everything in his training told him Draco spoke the truth. But he could not allow himself to accept that Draco wasn't somehow a death eater, and was lying about everything else.

Surely there had to be something that was helping the blond man lie. Surely…of course! Moody remembered Harry saying he had given the young man a truth telling serum. So it had to be that the truth serum canceled out the effect of the veritaserum, and he was lying this whole time and pretending to be in a trance-like state. Yes…that was the only way.

He grabbed the naked blond by the hair and pulled him up a ways, watching as Harry took a step forward. Moody knew the only thing keeping the Boy-Who-Lived from cursing him was the fact that Hermione and Tonks restrained him when he tried to lunge for the man holding Draco captive.

"I think I've figured it out. This little bastard has been lying this whole time. The truth telling serum and the veritaserum canceled each other out, and he's been lying this whole…"

He stopped suddenly as Draco made a choking noise, and then a flood of foul smelling liquid splashed out upon Mad-Eye Moody, effectivly causing him to drop the blond and step away.

Harry winced as Draco vomited all over the taller man, though he was sure he didn't feel sorry for Moody. Moody deserved that, and more. He shook his head and went over to untie and collect Draco. He wasn't going to waste one more minute in here while Moody tried to prove that Harry's potential lover was a death eater spy.

He picked up Draco bridal style and carried him out the door, this time to his own private room.


	12. Chapter 12

Draco woke up in a strange bed, and in a room that he hadn't seen before

Draco woke up in a strange bed, and in a room that he hadn't seen before. He rubbed his head and looked around the room, wondering how he had gotten himself into such a situation. Just when he thought he was making some headway with Harry, things happened and put him right back where he started from - looked at as if he was a death eater spy.

His eyes fell on Harry, who was just entering the room. The blond looked away. Harry sighed. He had hoped that Draco would be up to talking with him, but he now could see that Draco wouldn't be ready for that right now.

Still, he had to try. "Draco…I'm sorry…" He tried to move into the other man's view, but frowned with disappointment as Draco turned his head to look the other way.

He sat down on his bed, beside the angry Slytherin. "Draco, I know you must be mad at me. You have to understand that…"

"That what, Potter? That you finally realized Moody was correct all along and that I am not worth the clothing covering my hideous Slytherin death eater body, right?"

Harry looked at Draco, agast that the blond would think such a thing. "No! Draco, I didn't want to let Moody do those things to you. Hermione and Tonks…"

"Oh, of course, Harry. I'm so sorry. If Hermione and Tonks said it was ok, then they must be right. I am so sorry I thought otherwise." Draco huffed. He moved away from Harry and tried to struggle out from under the covers.

"Draco. Please just listen. Can you at least do that much for me? I know I failed you. I know you think I abandoned you and that I hate you. But Draco, I don't." Harry said. He reached across the bed and took hold of Draco's hand.

Draco looked up into the eyes of the man he had been drawn to for as long as he could remember, and softened. "Then why, Harry? Why did you let Moody do that to me? I thought I could trust you to protect me. But you stood there and watched while he drew out all my painful memories and laid them out on display to everyone."

"I know…I know. What I did was wrong. But Hermione and Tonks have a theory about Moody. They think he's in here as a spy for the death eaters. Of course they don't think he knows he is, but he's been doing some odd things lately, and the only thing they can figure is that he's been cursed to send information to the death eaters without his knowledge. He's not the type to submit willingly to anyone checking him for dark spells – so Hermione and Tonks have been holding me back from saying anything to him."

"You're saying you let him do that to me to prove that he's under some death eater's spell?" Draco asked, his voice slightly sarcastic.

"Well…yeah…but you make it sound worse then it really is."

Draco sighed and ran a hand through his long blond hair. "Harry, whether Moody is a death eater spy or not, that doesn't change the fact that you stood there and watch me be used. I thought maybe you were beginning to care for me or something, but…"

"Draco I do!"

The blond's eyes narrowed. "You do what, Harry?"

"I do care about you." The spectacled wonder said sofetly.

Draco didn't know what to do. On one hand he wanted to forgive Harry and spend time with the man he had loved for years. But on the other hand, the Boy-Who-Lived had really hurt him yet again. Should he trust that Harry really wanted him? Or was it just another chance to embarrass Draco?

He threw himself backwards onto the bed and covered his face with the pillow. The pillow that smelled just like Harry. He inhaled deeply and decided to give it another chance. Harry had to be worth all this.

His voice was muffled by the pillow when he began to talk, but Harry could understand it fairly well.

"Fine, Harry. I forgive you. Just please don't let me be the test subject for one of Moody's rampages again."

Harry leaned down and gently lifted the pillow off of Draco's face. He leaned down and kissed the blond. "Never again, Draco. I promise."


	13. Chapter 13

Several days later found Draco and Harry alone and locked together in Harry's private room

Several days later found Draco and Harry alone and locked together in Harry's private room. Harry had asked Hermione and Ron to take over for a while, so he and Draco could spend some time together without the disruptions that kept happening. Harry had checked the door to make sure it was locked so many times, Draco had joking suggested he was borderline obsessed with the door.

Harry had frowned at the blond and pretended he didn't know what he was talking about, and then felt incredibly stupid when Draco suggested just casting a locking spell on the door instead of worrying about the old locks on the equally old door. He cast the spell and then fell onto the bed next to Draco. He curled up with the blond, happy to finally feel somewhat safe in his own room.

Draco ran his fingers through Harry's thick dark hair, wondering what it would be like if Harry used Draco's special shampoo he made to keep his hair incredibly soft, shiny and healthy. Would Harry's rough locks soften enough to fall neatly against his head in an actual hairstyle?

Draco smiled to himself, remembering the wild hair Harry had had earlier in the term before his father had taken him to Lord Voldemort. Harry, or someone he trusted, had apparently tried to tame the bedhead Harry usually sported. But whatever spell or potion they used had caused it to spike itself iraticly all over his head.

Harry looked up into the face of the man he was curled next to, and smiled at the smiling face of the man he loved. Loved? Yes, that was right. He loved Draco. It was weird, and a completely new emotion to him. It wasn't like the love he felt for Ron or Hermione. This was the kind of love that tugged at his heart when he looked at Draco a certain way.

Draco was more then happy to accept Harry's love. He had dreamed of it for years, so now, when he had it, he took to it quickly. He hadnt seen any of the other people in Hogwarts for three days now, and he was just fine with that. Harry had taken care to accept anything the Order memebers wanted to give him, or take any conversations that they needed to have with him, outside the room he was sharing with Draco.

Harry came back from one such conversation to tell Draco that Moody was still on his rampage about Draco hiding death eater tendancies. Moody was still obsessed with it, mostly because they had recently gotten intel that someone had passed some sort of information to the death eaters that allowed them to get pretty far into the Ministry before the aurors found them and captured two lower recruits from the dark side.

Moody thought it was Draco who passed the info out, having somehow extracted it from Harry, who was supposedly, in his version of events, too in lust with the blond to see anything wrong with sharing sensitive information. Most everyone else, however, was watching Moody like a hawk. They knew Draco had been with Harry and with no contact with anyone else. Not to meantion Harry's room was warded against Voldemort getting into his mind or dreams, so there was little to worry about in thinking that the Evil leader was slipping into Draco's dreams for the information.

Draco also had absolutly no interest in joining Voldemort's side again as it was, and he told Harry that he would swear to that under Veritaserum anytime he wanted. Harry believed him though, and told Draco that he didn't need any potion or spell to believe that Draco wasn't lying about not wanting to be by Voldemort's side. After finding out how Voldemort had used Draco, he could see why the blond beauty had decided to face the Order and Harry Potter instead of going back to the man who basically only wanted to use Draco's body and force him to carry his own bastard child.

Draco had explained about how Voldemort had found out about the prophecy and had decided that if he could get and keep Draco when the child was meant to be conceived, he could be the winner of this fight. Maybe he could trick the magic into giving him him both a son and into killing Harry at the last fight. If Draco was meant to be a weapon, why couldn't that weapon be used by either side?

That thought had disgusted the son of Lucius Malfoy. Even if his father told him it was a great honor to bear the child of the Dark Lord, and to be his greatest weapon, Draco had wanted none of it. Not to meantion that the Dark Lord always fucked Draco hard when he took advantage of the gift Lucius had given him, and never even once made love to the younger man. Not that even if he had tried to, Draco would have considered it making love. That was reserved for when he had real feeling in the motions of the acts he would commit with another man. That was reserved for Harry Potter.

But what did Voldemort care, as long as he was the one in control of Draco's body? Well now he wasn't – and he did care. Unknown to Draco, Harry, or anyone inside the Order, Voldemort had been enraged for days. He thought he could steal back his tool, but the young blond man with the power to distroy the side of light was gone.

Whereever he was, neither Voldemort, nor any of his people, could find him. They knew Harry Potter had to have him, but they couldn't sense him either. For the past several days he had been only a momentary blip on their searches. Anytime he seemed to appear, he would disappear again unbelievably fast.

Voldemort knew that the time the weapon would be created, the time of the child's conception, was coming upon them fast. He knew at this rate he would not be the winner of this battle. But he had to try. It was all he had left.

-xXx-

As time passed quickly by, Harry and Draco grew closer together. They sometimes took walks around Hogwarts together, followed at a distance by Moody, who was, in turn, followed by at least three members of the Order.

Moody was still convinced, even after all he had learned from Draco, that the blond was a death eater spy. Everyone else in the Order was now convinced that he was under a spell, and had decided at their meeting – one neither Draco nor Moody had been invited to – that they would wait and see what Moody would do. If He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had a plan in the works, they wanted to know what it was, without giving him the knowledge that his spy was suspected.

Thankfully, Harry seemed to be true to his word. Anytime some member of the Order suggested interrogating Draco some more, or throwing him in with the other death eaters, Harry vetoed it immediately.

The other death eaters, while refusing to talk to those on the side of light, had overhead the discussion about Draco from their guards. And they had since been overheard talking about the young Malfoy. Some laughed over their memories of the blond being passed among the death eaters for their own perverted uses. Others cursed his name, calling him a blood traitor. But the problem was, now all of them knew that Draco was still in the castle, and worse yet, at Harry's side. And none of their minds were shielded from the Dark Lord's thoughts.

Snape of course, had to be kept from view of the other death eaters. They all thought he had escaped the raid and was back with their Lord. He was not the only one to suggest that the death eaters be put to death, before they could pass any more secrets to Voldemort. Harry, Hermione, and several others refused to travel that path. To make the Order members murderers – that wasn't how Harry ran things. Of course, he was often away from the decision processes, since he was with Draco in his room.

Snape had managed to slip into Harry's room to see Draco several times. Mostly when Harry was out talking to other people, briefly. The first thing the greasy haired potions master always asked his godson was if Harry was treating him well. The answer was always yes. The next questions always went in order: How are you feeling? Are you completely sure you want to go through with this? And, lastly, what do you plan to do after Harry uses you as his weapon – when Harry has the choice to leave the relationship.

Draco didn't know. He hoped by then Harry wouldn't want to leave, but his Slytherin side always sided with his godfather in thinking the worst. He just shook his head and asked the man when the next full moon was. He knew from the prophecy that the conception time would be on the full moon coming up soon. He hadn't told Harry yet – and now he only had two days left before that full moon came up.

He was debating with himself whether to tell Harry, or just to offer himself to the man he had been staying with for about two weeks now. Did Harry really need to know that the first time he would have sex with Draco would be the exact time needed to create his ultimate weapon? And technically Draco could just play it off as wanting to move further into his relationship with Harry. They had already done some sexual things together. Harry had finished giving Draco the hand job Moody had so rudely interrupted before. Draco had reciprocated by sucking his Hero off. The next step had to be sex, didn't it?

Draco sighed and covered his face with Harry's pillow again. He was still lying on Harry's bed, as he had been earlier that morning when Harry left. Then Snape had come in to talk to him, and Draco didn't care enough to put on clothing. Snape didn't care either, except for the fact that he stared with some disgust at the large purple hickeys on Draco's neck, chest, and thighs. Draco had scowled and covered himself up with the comforter.

Not that he was uncomfortable with his body being seen. He just didn't like the look Snape had on his face when he knew Harry had been the one to make those marks. Even though Snape knew as well as Draco did that Harry needed Draco to stop Voldemort, and that Draco loved Harry, he still didn't approve of the relationship.

Harry would be in soon though, and Draco knew he should make a decision. To tell the other man that it was almost time for the weapon, their child, to be conceived; or to hold that information back, and tell Harry when it had been done.

Draco knew Harry would be mad if he didn't tell him before they conceived the child, but what if Draco did tell him, and Harry decided he wasn't ready for a child, and refused Draco when the time was right? What should he do? What could he do? Ultimately it would be Harry's choice.


	14. Chapter 14

Draco woke up when Harry came into the room

Draco woke up when Harry came into the room. It wasn't that Harry hadn't tried to be quiet; Draco just could feel when Harry was nearby. His presence was like a pulsing beacon to the blond man.

"Harry, we need to talk."

"About the…" Harry was unsure of what to call it. 'The weapon' or 'the baby'. Both were technically true, but neither felt right to him.

Draco understood, and nodded. "I don't know if you want to hear this Harry, but I think you deserve to know. I'm going to be honest and tell you I was considering not informing you of what I am going to tell you, in order to make sure the…weapon came into existence."

Somehow it felt so wrong to call a baby a weapon. But when all was said and done, that's what it would be, wasn't it?

Was it even fair to bring a child into the world only to be used as a weapon? What if being used in such a way would drain the life force out of the child? Or worst then that, what if Voldemort managed to take control of the child's small body?

Draco shook those thoughts out of his head and continued. "Part of the prophecy says that the child will be born at a certain time, as is mapped out in some ancient scroll. Snape found the scroll, worked out the astrological bits, and told me when that time is. It's in two days, Harry. Since it is practically midnight right now," he said, eyeing the clock nearby, "there is only one day left."

Harry's eyes were wide as they took in the man he had come to care about in their short time together. One day to decide whether he wanted to use Draco's body to create the weapon that was foretold to kill Voldemort. Is that what he wanted? To use Draco? To bring a child into the world based on its potential use as a weapon? And what happened after that?

Harry and Draco were certainly not in a stable relationship. If anything, they were closer to being lovers then potential lifemates. And Harry didn't even know if Draco wanted to have a child with him. He did know that he wouldn't mind eventually having a child. He wouldn't even mind if that child's carrier was the Slytherin Prince himself.

"I'd like to ask you, Draco. If we did do this…if we had a child…if we created this weapon, would it just be to destroy Voldemort, or do we really have a chance? I guess what I am asking is, do you really want to be with me, or do you just want a surefire way to kill the creature that hurt you?"

Draco blinked at the other man. Of course he wanted to get revenge. But he wanted to be with Harry too. How could he say both without driving Harry away?

"Harry, I can't say that revenge against Voldemort wouldn't be a welcome thing for me. I can't tell you that it isn't one of the main reasons I want to do this. But I can say that I would never abandon the child after it has served the purpose the prophecy says it will. I want to be with you Harry. I want to have children, and live a happy life. I want my children to grow up with a father who loves them and will tell them so. The most my father ever gave me in that way was to tell me he was proud of something I had done – and most of those things had been his ideas anyways."

"I need to hear you say it, Draco. Tell me that you want to be with me, and I will agree to all of this."

"Harry Potter, there is nothing I would like more then to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to carry your children, and grow old with you. If you want me, that is."

"How very unlike you, Draco Malfoy. The boy I knew wouldn't give in so easily. And he wouldn't say things like that."

Draco smiled. "Maybe that's because I am a man now, Harry. And maybe I have learned that being Malfoy-like is not everything it is cracked up to be. I never want to end up like my father."

"I'm sure you won't, Draco. I'm sure you won't."


	15. Chapter 15

Draco lay on Harry's bed, naked as always, and stared at the scattered rose petals that adorned the bed around him

Draco lay on Harry's bed, naked as always, and stared at the scattered rose petals that adorned the bed around him. There were also several vases with intact roses placed around the room – courtesy of Neville and Luna.

Neville of course, had grown the flowers, but Luna, his current girlfriend, had taken it upon herself to arrange them and, she had said, to make sure no Lumpy Limpgets snuck into Harry's room by way of the petals.

Draco had been the one to open the door and accept the various vases from Neville and Luna, since Harry had been occupied in the bathroom at the time. He had always thought Luna was a bit insane, and that Neville was a shy, naive sort of fellow. However, the pair was so nice to him, despite the fact that he had been rude to them in the past, and that he had shown up to answer the door wearing only a pair of Harry's black boxers, they treated him as if he was someone worth speaking to. And Draco liked that.

After having spent so long as the whore of Voldemort's court, it felt nice for anyone to be speaking to him normally, without condescension in their voices and hatred or lust in their eyes. Even Luna's comment about Lumpy Limpgets made him smile. He thanked the pair with genuine gratitude, and after they had helped him place the rose filled vases around the room, he had enlisted the pair to try to get Harry out of the bathroom.

The brunette had locked himself in the bathroom since about 8 a.m. that morning, and seeing as how it was nearing noon, and Draco didn't care for taking a piss on the floor, he really had to get Harry out of there.

To his defense, Harry was having a legitimate panic attack. Today was the day he and Draco had to create the weapon…the child that would be the weapon. He couldn't say he wasn't having second thoughts.

On one hand, he would love to have a family, and Draco, despite his snarky attitude and constant sneering of the past, was quite the catch for any man…or woman, for that matter. But on the other hand, if he and Draco did this, together, there would be no way out. And what if this wasn't the right thing to do? What if he was just using Draco? What if they shouldn't have a child together? What if Voldemort got ahold of Draco and the child…and what if they died?

Harry knew if he bonded with Draco, and the child they planned to create became a reality, his life would revolve around those two alone. He would do anything to protect them…to save them from pain, death, or anything else that could hurt them.

The knocking on the bathroom door roused him from his thoughts. "Harry…" It was Neville's deepening voice that came from the other side of the door. "Draco has to use the bathroom, so could you come out for a minute?"

He heard a female voice interrupt Neville's, and suddenly Luna was addressing him. "Harry, surely you'll want to come out of there. I've heard rumors of Skin-Boring Skeetle-Been's coming out of the toilets, and I'm sure I've told you before how painful those are to remove."

Harry sighed and picked himself up off the toilet, which had been his seat between pacing sessions. He knew Luna would keep telling him about the various odd unseen creatures she knew about if he didn't come out. And besides, Draco was surely upset about him hogging the bathroom. He cast a quick Tempus to see the time, and groaned when he realized he had been in there for almost four hours.

He opened the door, and took in the view before him. Draco, still wearing only a pair of black boxers, stood a ways behind Neville and Luna. His arms were crossed and he seemed to be considering the pair before him, who had successfully gotten Harry out of the bathroom within three minutes.

Harry smiled awkwardly and greeted his friends. It was uncomfortable for him to be facing the pair when they had to realize what he and Draco would be doing later that day. It seemed the news had spread all around the castle, and now everyone knew that Harry had agreed to create a child with the young Malfoy. Harry was nervous about anyone knowing about his sexual life. It wasn't like people weren't in every other aspect of his life, couldn't he just have this? But the answer was always no. People loved to know who the Boy-Who-Lived wanted to sleep with. Scandal was always drawn to him.

Luna came forward the few steps it took to get to him, and drew Harry away from the doorway a bit so Draco could slip by. As Draco headed for the bathroom, he pulled Harry to him for a quick kiss for only a moment, before he slipped through the doorway and disappeared behind the closing door.

Harry turned his attention back to Luna and Neville, and blushed. He wasn't used to people seeing his private moments with the blond man. The two didn't seem to mind though, and they had already settled themselves into the nearby chairs near the fireplace.

He looked around the room, and his eyes caught on the rose filled vases sitting around the room. "You guys brought the roses?"

"Oh yes, Harry. We wanted your special night with Draco to be romantic." Luna said, flicking her hair over her shoulder and bending to examine the arm of the chair she was sitting in.

Draco chose that moment to come back in from the bathroom, and came over to join Harry, who was still standing but a few feet away from the bathroom door. His arms wrapped around the brunette's waist and held him tight.

Neville was beginning to look uncomfortable as the two men before him had a seemingly private moment. He shuffled his feet, and finally stood, before clearing his throat to get attention on him again. "Well, we better be going, Harry…Draco."

Draco nodded in response to being addressed by his name, and looked over at Luna, who was still examining a spot on the arm of the chair.

She suddenly looked up and over at Harry. "Harry, you have a Black-Bodied Korlack just here, don't you know?"

Harry grinned at his friend. It was just like her to be obsessed with the odd creatures that nobody else saw. "Oh yes?"

"Yes…well I don't suppose you would mind if I took it with me, would you?"

"Not at all, Luna."

Luna smiled and took a minute to detach the small, nearly invisible creature from Harry's chair, before turning back to Neville and leaving out the door from which they came.

When they were gone, Harry heard Draco snort to himself. "What's that about?" He asked the amused blond man.

"I always thought Luna was nuts, but now I find myself more interested in being around her then ever returning to my haughty pure-blooded family or the world I grew up in."

"Some things change, Draco." Harry said, with love in his voice.

"Yes, Harry. Sometimes things do change."


	16. Chapter 16

Harry sat on his rose petal covered bed, waiting for Draco to come out of the bathroom

Harry sat on his rose petal covered bed, waiting for Draco to come out of the bathroom. The blond man had been in there for over an hour now, and Harry was finding it hard to wait. He wanted to enjoy this evening, but he knew it was overshadowed by the prophecy, and that made it hard for him to think about relaxing and enjoying himself.

Whenever he thought about the prophecy, all he could think of was cold, unfeeling fucking. Not the loving, gentle, romantic lovemaking he had dreamed of at night. He didn't want to use Draco like the death eaters had. He wanted to show Draco he did love him.

But Draco really was taking too long in the bathroom, and Harry was simply itching to do something besides sit and passively wait for the blond to come to him. So he stood, walked to the bathroom door, and placed an ear and his left hand against it. He could hear soft humming coming from the other side. He placed his other hand on the door handle and slowly turned it, opening the door and slipping inside. He shut the door silently, and turned to watch the sexy blond, who was still unaware that Harry was in the same room and watching him.

Harry's eyes were glued to Draco's ass. He couldn't help himself. The blonds' back was turned to him, bent slightly as Draco lathered his left leg with soap. Harry let out a small whimper of need, and let his hand brush over his growing erection, which was still encased in his pants and underwear. Fortunately he had already taken off his shirt. He slipped his hand into the top of his jeans, slid past the underwear, and wrapped his fist around his own thick shaft. He groaned louder, but luckily the shower and Draco's humming drowned out the sound.

After a minute of watching Draco wash himself, while fisting his rock hard cock roughly, Harry risked unzipping his pants and pulling them and his underwear down to expose his member. He closed his eyes and leaned against the door, imagining Draco kneeling before him, taking his cock into his mouth, sucking gently.

He continued his steady stroking, though he was now lost in his own world.

--X--

Little did Harry know that Draco had chosen the moment the brunette man had closed his eyes to turn around. His eyes took in the view of Harry's stiff member, and smiled as he watched Harry getting lost in his imagination. This left Draco the perfect opportunity.

Silently he made his way out of the shower, leaving it running and dropping to his knees onto the soft bath rug that was placed before the sink, but was close enough to the door to serve Draco's needs. The last thing he needed was to develop knee problems.

He looked up at Harry's face, making sure his eyes were still closed, before leaning forward and breathing hotly across Harry's erect cock. Harry shivered, moaned, and slowed his stroking, though it seemed like he was still deep in his fantasy, because his eyes never opened. Draco smiled. He stuck his tongue out and licked the smooth red head of the cock before him, before running his tongue down to the underside of the shaft and licking at the vein under the head of the cock.

Harry made an odd noise, half groan and half sigh, and gave himself one last stroke before he let his fantasy take over. He didn't dare open his eyes. What if the phantom touches ended forever?

Draco's soft, wet mouth claimed Harry's cock. Harry sagged against the door. He was getting to the point where he was sure to blow his load any moment, and he was about to take a risk.

He reached his hands out, and let out a satisfied groan when his hands met with soft, long hair on a solid, real head. Draco's eyes darted up from Harry's cock, to meet with Harry's eyes, as they opened for the first time to this new situation. Draco would have smiled, but instead, he increased the suction and continued to tongue the vein again, keeping his incredible grey-blue eyes locked on Harry's bright emerald ones.

Harry couldn't stop himself. He ran his hands further down the sides of Draco's head, and grasped the hair lower, near the blonds' ears. With that done, he gritted his teeth and came with a tense shout, watching as his Draco drank in the load of cum.

Draco finished sucking Harry clean, and then stood, smoothing his hair where Harry had been gripping it. "Well, you seemed to enjoy that." He said.

Harry grinned.

"Yes."

And then he pulled Draco into a desperate kiss.


	17. Chapter 17

Minutes later, Draco was pressed up against the pillar like support of the bed post on the left side of the bed, groaning as H

Minutes later, Draco was pressed up against the pillar like support of the bed post on the left side of the bed, groaning as Harry attacked his neck with kisses and hickeys. He had thought that he would have to be the one to do everything on this night, but it seemed that once you got Harry started, he was perfectly capable of finishing the act himself. But Draco had no complaints. To have Harry, the man he had hoped to save himself for, finally touching him and wanting him, despite everything he had done – everything he had had to do to stay alive for those few years since he had been away – was a relief. And damned if Draco wasn't going to let himself enjoy it.

Harry moved to push Draco from his current position, onto the bed, where he could easily climb on top of the blond and place him just where he wanted him. Draco refused. If Harry ever wanted to be with him, he had to learn that one never disrespected the Malfoy hair. And to lay on any bed with long wet hair, was asking for tangles and misshapen hair, come morning. And Draco told Harry as much.

The brunette smirked, and ran his hands through the still smooth, though slightly wavy blond hair, surprising Draco with a momentary demonstration of the wandless magic techniques he had learned since they had last seen each other. In this instance, it was a drying spell.

Draco stared at Harry in awe as he ran a hand over his now dry, and still perfect, hair. The last time he had seen someone try a wandless drying spell on their hair, the smell of burned hair lingered in the Slytherin bathroom for over a week. He had never seen anyone manage it so quickly either. Wandless spells usually took time and concentration, but Harry hadn't made it seem like it was a big thing for him.

Harry grinned at Draco's awestruck expression and leaned in to kiss him, and then pushed him back onto the bed. Draco didn't bother to argue now. Harry was surely the most powerful wizard he had ever met, if that minor spell had any indication on his power level. Surely it was Harry he was meant for. Everything in the prophecy pointed to that idea, though the Dark Lord had still insisted that there were other ways to interpret it – namely that he himself could be the wizard that Draco should willingly give himself to on that night.

He gathered his hair up and twisted it just so, to keep the majority of it from tangling or getting pulled during their lovemaking, and allowed Harry to climb on top of him. He lay there, waiting to see what the other man's next move would be. Moments went by, and still nothing happened.

Draco looked up into Harry's face, and met his eyes. They stared back at him, an expression of love and excitement seemingly glued on the mans' face. Draco smiled up at Harry, suddenly feeling as if a weight left him. He remembered, the last time he had been in a similar position to this. But then it had been a death eater holding him down on the bed, smiling evilly and sadistically down at him. Draco shivered at the memory, and sighed with relief as Harry rolled of him to the side, and encircled the blond with his arms.

"Draco, I know you've been hurt before. Are you sure this is what you want?"

"Yes Harry, more then anything. This is what I want." Draco managed a weak smile, hoping Harry didn't take it as Draco just telling him what he wanted to hear.

Harry sighed. "We'll take this slow, ok? It's only…" He cast a quick Tempus, and found it was nearing five p.m. "It's almost five. We can't even create this weapon…our child, until midnight hits, if what Snape told you is right. And then we have an hour to do what needs to be done. Let's take our time."

Draco nodded, grateful that Harry wasn't demanding like the death eaters. None of them suggested taking their time to fuck the blond sex-toy, and none but two, that Draco could remember, had ever bothered using lube.

But Draco couldn't help feeling slightly resentful towards the death eaters. It was their fault he was nervous now. It was their fault he had flashbacks to the times he had been forced to do those things. He should be able to willingly give over his body to Harry, without feeling this panic that settled into his body and mind from the idea of being dominated.

Harry surprisingly felt nothing against Draco for stopping the sex before it had really started. He had thought he might be at least a little annoyed, like he had been when Ginny used to play mind games with him. She would get him all hot and ready, aching for sex, and then she would shy away, bursting into tears and wanting to hear how much Harry loved her.

The problem was, Harry didn't love her. Not like she wanted. He felt lust for her at one time, and if she had been willing, he would have been willing to have sex with her. But now, he felt nothing for her but slight contempt. Not because she wouldn't put out, but because she had spent over five years trying to haul him in as her potential husband, only because she wanted the power and prestige of being Harry Potter's wife.

And if the rumors had any truth to them, which Harry was sure they did, Ginny had no problem with putting out frequently for any other guy she deemed worthy. He had even walked in on her once, as she bounced on the cock of some Order member. He couldn't, and wouldn't, talk to her again about any sort of relationship between them after that. He had no problems with the Order member Ginny had taken up with at that time, though. He knew that if that man was stupid enough to get involved with a whore, and not to use protection – which he knew they hadn't, there had been no glow of a protection spell, and Ginny always claimed that all condoms gave her rashes and birth control made her sick – it would be his own problem to deal with when the little witch stood before him, claiming he was the father of her unborn baby.

It took Harry several moments to pull himself out of his thoughts, and when he did, he realized that Draco had fallen asleep and was now plastered to his body, seeking the warmth and comfort he could find there. Harry didn't mind at all. He waved his hand and suddenly both he and Draco were under the covers, feeling soft silk sheets against their bare skin.

The blond barely stirred from his sleep at that act of magic. His eyes flickered open, caught on Harry's eyes, and slowly closed again. He was comfortable enough with Harry to finally sleep, trusting he would wake up unharmed.

Harry watched Draco's face for a while, smiling softly whenever the blond made some movement in his sleep that the brunette found endearing. He would have waited forever for the blond to be comfortable enough to make love with him, without feeling fear. But now, the prophecy didn't leave any room for that. It was either tonight, or nothing. And Harry could no longer risk losing this war. Or losing Draco.


	18. Chapter 18

Draco awoke to gentle touches

Draco awoke to gentle touches. A hand ran down his back, almost lovingly. Next, the hand touched his hair; ran careful fingers through it, and lifted it to the nose of Draco's love.

He opened his eyes and watched as Harry's eyes closed with pleasure as he smelled the fresh smell of Draco's hair, and felt its softness against his face. He was glad now that Snape had brought Draco some of the hair potion that Draco used as a shampoo. Now that wonderful smell was back. The one Harry had refused to admit affected him, back when he and Draco were in school.

When he opened his eyes again, Draco was awake, watching him and smiling. He stared as Draco stretched, and then pulled himself closer to Harry. The cuddled together for a few minutes, until Draco propped himself up and glanced out the window. It was dark out. This time, Draco cast the Tempus spell, sighing with relief when he saw that it was only seven minutes past eleven p.m. He had momentarily feared that they had slept past the vital time they had been waiting for, and had forever ruined their chances to save each other, and the world.

He dropped back down onto the bed and rolled to face Harry, who was still watching him.

"It's almost time." Harry said, breaking the moment of silence.

"Yes."

"You're still ok with this?"

Draco let out an unintentional shaky breath. "Yes."

"We don't have to do this, Draco…"

The former Slytherin cut him off. "Yes, Harry. We do. I can't let Voldemort take over the world because I am shaken up about what happened to me before. This is bigger then me. Bigger then either of us."

Harry smiled. "You're wrong, Draco. This is us. Our love, together, is what will save us, and the world. So don't say this is bigger then you, or me, or us." Then he leaned over and kissed the blonds' lips gently, reveling in how soft and sweet they were now that they had healed from the spilt skin and chapped lips he had had before.

Gentle petting started up again, neither demanding nor unwanted from either of the men on the bed. True to his word, Harry took it slow, waiting for Draco to make the next move to take the next step up. Slow and needy kisses were exchanged. Soft groans and moans of welcome and want were heard. And just as the clock struck midnight, time found Harry and Draco nearing completion, ready to take the next step into becoming lovers. Harry knelt between Draco's legs, tugging gently on Draco's engorged cock. He didn't want to rush the blond man, but time was now of the essence, and Harry felt ready to explode. He felt as if all the seed his body had available had made itself ready for the end of this event. And his cock ached with need to release it all.

Draco was almost ready. He was comfortable with Harry's position this way, face to face; a great deal more intimate then any death eater had ever done with him. Harry was about to lube himself in preparation, when a loud chime started up from near the door. Harry's own version of a panic alarm.

The brunette stopped and attempted to lunge off the bed, his hero instincts kicking in. But the hand of his blond lover stopped him.

"Harry, if you go now, they win. I know that probably means the death eaters made it into the castle. They'll be headed here any time now, and there's nothing we can do to stop them. But Harry, we can at least try to win the main battle. Please…if not for me, stay and finish this for your friends, or the whole damned Wizarding world. Just don't give up this one chance we have. Please, Harry."

Harry stared at Draco, indecision written on his face. On one hand, he felt he should be down there with the rest of the Order, fighting to stop the onslaught of death eaters from getting further into the castle. But if he left Draco here alone, and without completing the prophecy before the hour was up, there was a very good chance that whether or not he helped to save the castle, Voldemort would win and rule the world.

He looked to the door, then back at Draco, and sighed. "I'll stay. But let's get this over with so we both can fight." The blond nodded.

Harry crawled back towards the center of the bed, and waited while Draco repositioned himself. When the blond declared himself ready, Harry was preparing to cast the cleaning, lubing and stretching spell when a loud noise sounded at the old door. They had arrived.

"Harry, just do it!" The blond cried out, as he flipped onto his hands and knees and positioned himself as he had for the countless death eaters before. Harry risked casting the quick wandless spell to prepare Draco's hole, and then pushed in, trying to ignore Draco's outcry of pain. He thrust desperately, hoping to finish quickly, hoping to fight the death eaters and stop them from taking Draco away from him. Hoping to fight for his life and future.

But it was not to be. Moments into Harry and Draco's intimate moment, the door splintered, and bits of the old cedar door flew inwards, scattering across the floor. A black gloved hand reached in through the newly made hole, felt around for the door handle, and found it with little trouble.

Draco stared at the gloved hand as it searched, and then found what it was looking for. It looked so familiar, the way the fine material starched over the long fingered, aristocratic hand. A hand very much like his father's. He stifled a choking sob and began to push back against Harry's thrusts, hoping to trigger Harry's release so the brunette could use his magic to fight the enemy.

The gloved hand had found the door handle, and had tried to release the catch on the door. Then the person just beyond the door hand seemed to realize that there was more to this door then a simple lock, and had quickly cast several efficient unlocking charms.

The door swung inward, and in stepped Lucius Malfoy, his expensive black shoes crunching against the bits of broken door on the floor. Behind him came several other death eaters, his lackeys, of course.

Harry was not yet finished, and though he would have liked to stop thrusting roughly into Draco so he could effectively fight the death eaters, he knew better then to do so.

Draco was whimpering into the sheets now, trying to hade his face from his father's hot gaze. This was just like the time his father had come in and watched while Draco was raped by other men as a punishment for refusing the Dark Lord the first time. No amount of begging or pleading could save him, when it came to his father. He had wronged his Lord, and this was what he deserved. But now, things were different. Here he was, wronging the Lord all over again, but with a different purpose in mind. And yet, he couldn't bring himself to look at his father in the face while the man he loved thrust into him.

He wasn't ashamed. He was scared. Harry couldn't offer him protection now, he knew that much. The death eaters had breached the Hogwarts defenses. Had gotten past countless Order members and teachers. Draco was screwed. Literally.

Harry flung out one hand, palm out, and released a wave of wandless magic that enveloped the bed and protected those in it. He knew that this strong of a ward wouldn't hold much longer. And he also knew his magic gave out for a while after he came. And that moment was coming far too soon.

He reached down to Draco's cock and fisted it as he thrust the last few times. If this was going to be their last time together, their only time together, he wanted Draco to enjoy it too. Then he whispered, just low enough for Draco to hear him, and no one else, "Draco, remember I love you."

The muffled reply, "I love you too." was the last thing Harry heard before he felt the muscles of Draco's tight passage constrict around him. He came, and promptly blacked out as the shield went down and the knockout curse hit him straight on, fired by Lucius Malfoy himself.

Draco crumpled on the bed under the weight of the man he loved, and cried. He knew his father would take him to Voldemort now, and he had an idea of what that creature would want when he got there.

He stayed limp, forcing his father to do all the work. He would not do anything to aid his monster of a father ever again.

Lucius levitated the Boy-Who-Lived off his son, and dropped the spell when the other man's body was hovering over the hard floor. He didn't care about what happened to Harry Potter. His mission, and the only way to gain Voldemort's trust again, was to bring back his son to his master in time for the prophecy to work. He regretted giving Draco that chance to prove himself on the death eater raid of Hogwarts. He never should have trusted his coward of a son to do the right thing. But now, whether Draco liked it or not, he would provide his service to the Dark Lord.

The older Malfoy then levitated his son off the bed in a strict body bind, not trusting the younger man not to try something foolish. He sneered as he realized the Potter boy must have released his seed into his son, and then cast a cleaning spell on Draco's body and passage. The cleaning spell on the young mans body did its work quickly and well, and Draco was left spotless. The spell to clean Harry's seed out of his passage however, died as it hit the young blond man.

He tried it again, just to be sure of the results, and again, the spell pulsed and faded out as it struck Draco's ass. The older Malfoy groaned. Hopefully that didn't mean what he thought it did.

Anyhow, he had no time to ponder it. With the wards down, and his son in levitated tow, he apperated away from Hogwarts, leaving Harry on the hard floor near the bed.


	19. Chapter 19

Harry awoke to Hermione kneeling beside him, shaking him roughly

Harry awoke to Hermione kneeling beside him, shaking him roughly. He sat up quickly, his eyes darting around the room, looking for a distinct blond head of hair. He didn't find it.

"Where's Draco?" He demanded, his voice almost seething with a strange mixture of fear and rage.

"They took him, mate." Ron said, sounding oddly remorseful for a guy who hated the blond Slytherins guts.

Harry looked up into the sad eyes of Ron, and pushed down the urge to cry. Now was not the time to give in to that sort of emotion. Now was the time to save Draco.

He stood up, noting that Hermione or Ron must have put his pants on for him, because he was no longer naked. He didn't give himself time to be ashamed that they had found him naked and unconscious. There would be time for that later.

"How'd they get in?" He asked, already feeling that he knew the answer.

"Three guesses and the first two don't count." Ron answered, his comment filled with anger, but somehow bland.

Harry nodded, his eyes going darker as his anger took further control of him. "Moody."

--X--

Draco remained conscious the entire trip, though he still couldn't move. He knew exactly where they were, when the apparition spell ended. He was back at Malfoy Manor, and sickeningly enough, he was in his old room. The place that used to bring him comfort and safety.

His father released the body bind spell once Draco's body was hovering above his bed, only to replace it with a spell that bound Draco's limbs to the four posts of the bed. This was a spell Draco knew well, both from his childhood, and from his time spent at Voldemort's hideout, which was just another Malfoy property. If at any time he tried to struggle, he would find himself bound tighter. If he wasn't careful, the spell could cause dislocation of his arms and legs. Thankfully the bindings didn't work the other way. If someone was to cause Draco's body to move for him, the bindings wouldn't tear his limbs from his body.

He felt another body bind hit him as he lifted his head up to see who else was in the room. His head fell back to the bed with a soft thump, but he had already seen Voldemort sitting at his old desk, seemingly reading something.

He had ignored the entrance of the young man and his father, but now, he turned to stand up. His eyes met Lucius' cold grey eyes for only a moment, before the blond man seemed to think better of it and let his eyes drop.

"My Lord, I have brought you my son, as promised. May his presence please you."

The Dark Lord's robes swept the floor as he came forward towards the older Malfoy. He came to the end of Draco's bed, and eyed the naked young blond, noting several love bites and marks on his normally perfect skin. Not that the other death eaters never left marks before – they just made sure to clean up their toy afterwards. Lucius was being sloppy, and he knew better.

His hand suddenly flew out at the standing blond man, and caused him to fly through the air several feet and crash into a portion of hard stone wall. He sagged to the floor, and groaned, looking up at his master with some awe, and some barely concealed fear.

"The time is late, Malfoy. You should have been here long ago. You leave me with little time to complete what must be done." Voldemort hissed angrily. "And you bring me an unfit vessel. Surely you noticed these marks on the boy's fair skin…you should have healed them." His long fingernails brushed along several of the love bite marks Harry had left.

Draco would have flinched, or tried to move away from the evil man's touch, but the body bind held him securely.

"Leave us, Malfoy. You are dismissed."

Draco could hear the scuffling and hurried footsteps of his father as he exited the room and closed the door with a soft click behind him. He knew his father feared Voldemort, which was something he found quite odd. He had been told as a youngster that 'A Malfoy bows to no one.' But yet, his father had spent many years bowing and pleading to please this half human creature. So clearly his father was a hypocrite.

Voldemort released the body bind on the young man bound before him, and drew his attention.

"I believe this was yours, Draco?"

What he held, and probably had been reading, was Draco's old journal. He was sure he had written things in there that he didn't want anyone else to read – including some of his best wet dreams involving Harry. He groaned mentally and refused to reply.

The Dark Lord smirked and tossed the book to the floor, before disrobing with a flick of his hand. It seemed Voldemort could work wandless magic just as Harry could. For a brief moment Draco wondered who would be stronger in a one on one wandless battle – Harry, or Voldemort – but he pushed that aside as the man he hated climbed up into the bed.

Draco tried to remind himself that this was nothing new. His father's master had raped him countless times before, but this time it felt like it was all new. He turned his head away as the bastard's long fingernails breached his passage and seemed to be sizing him up.

"Ah, so young Harry Potter got here first, I see. Well, no matter."

It seemed only moments later that Draco was being filled yet again, but this time, unwillingly. He hated every thrust the other man made. He wanted to vomit. He wanted to scream, and fight, and get away. But there was nothing he could do now, and Harry couldn't come to save him. The wards on the Manor were too great. He just had to wait.

After being violated as many times as Voldemort could manage before time was out, Draco lay on the bed, trying not to feel. He watched as the disgusting man disappeared into his bathroom, and then came out again several minutes later, redressed and apparently clean.

The Dark Lord gestured to one of the strong wooden bars of the canopy bed, and Draco suddenly found himself suspended from it.

"We'll just leave you there for an hour or so." He said. "Best not risk losing any of my precious sperm to the forces of gravity." Then he laughed, and left the room.

The blond hung there alone and cried.

--X--

Harry was brought to the room where an enraged Alastair Moody thrashed about, demanding to be released from the small shielded cage he had been put into. He had enough room to take two steps to any side from the center, but he insisted on spinning around dangerously, shaking the bars and testing the magic wards.

Harry had been told, as he strode through the halls of Hogwarts, on his way to face Moody, that Hogwarts was again safe and the wards were reestablished. He demanded that more wards be put up. He would not have this happening again.

Finally he stood face to face with the man.

"Let me OUT!" Moody demanded gruffly.

"No." Harry said simply. "You endangered the lives of everyone in Hogwarts. You were the one who took down the wards. You told them when to be ready. You told them where my room was. You are responsible, Moody, and worst of all, you failed to even consider that it might be you who has been releasing information to the enemy. You are the reason Draco is gone. And I will never forgive you for that. Never."

For once in the time since he had been apprehended, Moody was still and silent.

Then he nodded. "It was me. I could claim that it was completely the spells doing, but that Malfoy brat just gets to me. I admit to knowing about the spell on me, but I thought I could control it. And then, when you gave sanctuary to the young Malfoy, I snapped. I refused to let myself believe he could be innocent of anything. My obsession with proving he was a death eater aided the spell I was under to grow and further take over my mind. I'm sorry, Harry."

Harry shook his head. He couldn't talk to the man anymore. He left the room, followed by Hermione and Ron.

Hermione was the first to suggest viewing Moody's memories using the Headmaster's pensive. Surely they could find out who did this, and get information on how to get Draco back. Harry and Ron agreed.

--X--

Draco still hung from the upper support of the canopy bed. The clock in his room chimed three a.m. and he knew he had been up there for around two hours. The chances that he had conceived a child on this night were high, and he could only hope that it had been Harry's young sperm that had made it, over Voldemort's. He wondered what he would do if he found out it was Voldemort's child he had conceived, instead of Harry's. Would he have the guts to abort it? Could he abort it? For sure, he didn't want any child that Voldemort could give him.

A noise at the door brought his attention back to the real world, and he watched as Voldemort came back in, followed by his father. Voldemort used his wand this time to bring Draco down from where he had been hanging, and dropped him onto the bed in yet another body bind.

"Well, young Malfoy, though I hate to do this, I have been made well aware that young Harry will not stand for you to be kept by me. So, I will return you to him. With a few modifications, of course."

Draco felt several spells hitting his body in various places. He didn't know what some of them were, because Voldemort had done them silently. Others, he knew what they were.

--X--

Harry, Hermione, and Ron swirled into the mists of Moody's memories of earlier that night. Images flew by. Moody casting Tempus, leaving his room, stupefying his guards, and letting down the wards on Hogwarts. Moody greeting and leading several death eaters into the building, including Lucius Malfoy. Moody gesturing to the door to Harry's room, and being hit with a Stupify himself, when the death eaters were done with him. Then one last memory of hearing a voice as his consciousness swam towards darkness. "Apperate to Malfoy Manor, that's where our Lord is waiting for us, and my son." It was Lucius Malfoy's voice.

It wasn't much later that Harry stood just outside the wards of Malfoy Manor, staring into its grounds, waiting for something. He found what he was looking for when the noisy crack of Apperating sounded nearby. And there, just inside the protections of the Manor, stood Voldemort with his wand pointed at a naked young Malfoy before him, and a scowling Lucius Malfoy beside him.

"I knew you couldn't stay away long, young Harry. I suppose you have come to tell me that you'll never give up until young Draco here is given back to you?"

"You know me too well, Voldemort." Harry gritted out. He had just noticed the large tattoo Voldemort and undoubtedly burned into Draco's abdomen. Clearly he thought it a fitting sign that his seed was competing with Harry's, and due to the size of Voldemort's crest compared to the one of Harry's on Draco's back, he probably thought he had won, and that it would be his seed that would cause Draco to become pregnant. Harry grimaced. The thought of Voldemort even having seed was revolting, let alone the thought of him having sex.

"Well then Harry, I'm afraid I can't have you constantly looking over my shoulder because of one young man, whether or not he carries my child. See, I've placed some spells on him. For example, my seed cannot be removed from him by magic or tampering. Also, any child of mine he conceives cannot be removed from his body without Draco dying as well."

Harry nodded. He almost expected as much from Voldemort.

The half man half creature seemed to take that as as much of an answer as he was going to get, because he pushed the young blond forward, and watched as he stumbled across the wards of the Manor and out to Harry Potter.

Draco knew what was going on. He knew that Harry was there to take him back, and that Harry would love him no matter what, but he was sick with worry about what might be growing inside of him. He wanted Harry's child. Not the Dark Bastard's.

Harry noted the look on Draco's face, the almost dull sheen in his eyes, and decided on the course of action Hermione had suggested. She, in her reading on Harry's and Draco's situation, had discovered something that would perhaps make everything better for them, if it worked.

He waited until Draco came up to him, and then watched as the blond fell tiredly to his knees. Harry helped him up, brushed the mess usually perfect hair from Draco's face, and kissed him gently. At the same time, his hand drifted down the blonds' back before coming to the small of his back, near his ass. Harry caressed the area gently, before covering the mark on Draco's back with his hand, and accepting the tug of magic he felt there as it rushed through his body and out into Draco's.

Draco's eyes went wide as he felt Harry's hand on the mark, and then the rush of magic flowing through him. Almost lighting fast, he felt the mark on his back reach into him, and then through him, burning the mark Voldemort had left from his body. At the same time, he felt a harsh pain rip through his body and the odd feeling of Voldemort's seed protection spell disappearing from existence, and a gush of wetness flowing down his legs. He looked down in wonder at what looked exactly like what he had known from his time as the death eater's whore. The liquid was a pale milky white, and looked exactly like cum.

He looked up into Harry's worried green eyes as the pain subsided from his body. He knew better then to hope that was the end of it.

Harry turned his attention back to the Dark Lord, who eyed the display of magic with a thoughtful frown.

"Don't think you've won, Harry. I have more spells in place then you think." And then he and Lucius Malfoy disappeared, leaving Harry standing outside Malfoy Manor with a naked Draco in his arms, and flanked by Ron and Hermione, who had the sense to look worried.


	20. Chapter 20

Draco didn't seem to sense the passage of time anymore

Draco didn't seem to sense the passage of time anymore. Sure, he remembered things. He remembered Harry carrying him to Madam Pomfrey – carrying him, because his legs would no longer move of their own volition. He remembered the old witch forcing several potions in him, and doing scan after scan, until Draco was sure she had exhausted every diagnostic spell in the books. He remembered her worried tone when she told Harry that it was beyond likely that his body would conceive, or had conceived, on that very night. Apparently his fertility levels were just right for that event. And then he remembered leaning over the edge of the cot and emptying his stomach contents onto the floor.

Draco then had known only two things. One, he might kill himself if the seed that impregnated him was Voldemort's, and two, Harry was there beside him, holding the blonds' long hair out of his face while he alternated between retching and gasping over the side of the small cot.

Now, upon recollection, he remembered that Harry was with him every moment he possibly could be. The Gryffindor had been there for every visit with Pomfrey, stating that he wouldn't leave unless Draco asked him to. And Draco never asked him to. Every night, the brunette would take the blond back to his room, cover him carefully with blankets, and cuddle him to sleep.

Harry insisted that no matter what happened, no matter whose baby it was Draco carried, they would find a way to turn it to their advantage. Draco didn't see how they could. If it was Voldemort's child, then surely Voldemort would win the fight. And if it was Harry's, well, then they had nothing to worry about.

Draco dreamed of nothing. When he slept, he fell into a world of his own making. A world where everything was calm and peaceful. It was almost like looking into Harry's eyes when he was happy. A feeling of love and calm, suffused with light and warmth. Draco wanted to stay in his dreams forever. The alternative to his dreams was reality, and Draco didn't particularly like his reality right now.

The more he thought about it, the more Draco knew he didn't like to be used. Especially not by Voldemort. He didn't mind Harry. At least Harry treated him with love and respect, even if he was technically using Draco's body to hopefully grow a child of his own making. Draco knew that if Harry turned out to be the father of whatever child he brought forth, Harry would stay and love him and the child, even after the war was over. Likewise, Draco knew that if it was Voldemort's child, he would likely be used as an incubator until the child arrived, and then either used as bait for Harry, or killed outright.

He blinked down at the soup Harry had placed before him, and sighed. Harry kept trying to feed him. Telling him he needed his strength. Begging Draco to eat, if not for himself, if not for Harry even, then for their child.

Draco shook his head and turned his head to gaze out the window.

--X--

Harry hated seeing Draco like this. But then, what did he expect the blond to be doing? If he were in the same position, Harry was sure he would be doing much the same thing. Harry had been mind raped by Voldemort before, but it was nothing compared to the actual rape that Draco had to go through.

Harry had gone around to his closest friends seeking advice on how to treat Draco now. How to make the man he loved feel better, despite the harsh circumstances. How to make Draco feel like Harry knew he was hurting, without making Draco feel obligated to come out of his state of deep sorrow.

Most of his friends had no idea how to deal with the situation. Even the fact that Harry was gay and was trying to make things work with Draco was a bit over the top for them. Of course, they wished them the best of luck in their relationship, and offered to help in any way they could, but they simply had no rational advice to give Harry.

Ron had suggested that maybe Draco would feel better in a few days, when the pregnancy test could be properly given and read. But Harry couldn't help but think about what would happen if Draco found out he was pregnant with Voldemort's baby. Would he kill himself? Would he go back to Voldemort, feeling that no matter what, the prophecy must be completed? No, that was stupid. Draco hated the Dark Lord, both for killing his mother, and for treating him as if he were a whore.

Anyhow, there was still a week to go before the pregnancy test could be done for proper results. So Harry decided he would do all he could do for now. Show Draco he was there for him, no matter what.


	21. Chapter 21

Time had passed quickly, and the day of the pregnancy test dawned foggy, but by later that morning, the promise of sun peaked

Time had passed quickly, and the day of the pregnancy test dawned foggy, but by later that morning, the promise of sun peaked from behind the clouds.

Draco tried to push off the heavy feeling of dread he felt whenever he thought of the test, just as he tried to push away the tray piled high with breakfast foods that Harry had placed before him on the bed. But in the end, Harry won out, and Draco found himself munching on a piece of toast that tasted like nothing to him. Not that it was tasteless, he just couldn't taste it.

Harry himself eyed the eggs he was eating as if the taste was off, but he still kept up his good example for Draco, and continued eating. He thought he knew how Draco felt. There was both a glimmer of hope that the child would be Harry's, and overwhelming dread that it was Voldemort's.

Harry had almost persuaded himself that it didn't matter whose baby it was…that it was the environment the child grew up in that shaped the child. But who was he kidding? He grew up in a cupboard under the stairs, without a hint of compassion or love from his guardians. And then there was the fact that he was a Quiddich Prodigy, which had to have come from his father. So there it was. Genetics mattered.

But if it was Voldemort's baby, what could Harry do about it? Could he even consider killing Draco to stop the birth of Voldemort's weapon? Would that be considered a merciful death?

But no, how could he even think such a thing? He could never kill Draco. But there had to be some way to stop Voldemort from having an Heir. If only he could think!

Loud knocking sounded in the silence of the room, and Harry jumped off the bed to answer the door, leaving Draco to surreptitiously drop his half eaten toast under the serving platters lid.

Harry disengaged the wards he had on the room and opened the door. Outside stood Hermione and Ron, both looking like they were trying hard not to be nervous. But they were failing at it.

"Hello Harry," Hermione tried a smile, but it faded quickly. "Madam Pomfrey says you and Draco should head over there now for the…you know."

Harry nodded. He knew what she was talking about before she even opened her mouth. He turned to face the room and Draco, who was up and struggling into his shirt at the end of the bed.

Harry sighed; he knew almost instantly that Draco hadn't finished his toast. He only hoped that the little Draco did eat would help with the pregnancy test spell Madam Pomfrey would be performing. She had said eating something would make it easier. But there was nothing to do about Draco's lack of eating now. Better to get this testing over with.

Draco met Harry, Hermione and Ron at the door and walked with them to the Madam Pomfrey's domain. She seemed to be ready and waiting for them; a cot was prepared, as well as the potion Draco would have to drink to help with the spell. Harry led Draco to the cot and helped him undress to his black silk boxers – ones Harry had bought him on a quick shopping trip for a small wardrobe for the blond – and watched as Draco crawled onto the bed and settled himself on it.

There was nothing left for Harry to do, besides be there for Draco. So he sat in a chair that was placed near the cot, and offered his hand to the blond. Draco looked at Harry's hand as he fought to steady his breathing, and finally decided to take it. If not for himself, then for Harry's piece of mind.

Draco still wasn't sure what he was going to do if the child he carried turned out to be Voldemort's. He had originally planned to kill himself, but that would hurt Harry in a way he really didn't want to. That, combined with the fact that Draco did not, personally, want to die, made him rethink his plans.

He leaned back against the propped up pillows, and tried to ease his breathing. It wouldn't be good if he staged a repeat of what had happened the night Pomfrey had first examined him, and he was sure nobody enjoyed cleaning up his mess from the floor beside the bed. He managed to breathe normally finally, just as the witch handed him the vial of purple liquid.

He accepted it, swallowed it down without any more thought, and handed the empty container back to her. She tried a smile, but it didn't seem to fit, so she crossed the room to the counter to place the vial back in its holder, and left the room to give the potion some time to filter through Draco's system, and into his magical womb, if it was there.

Draco was sure he was pregnant. He had grown more and more tired, had frequent headaches, some bouts with nausea, and some irritability at Harry for coddling him so. He didn't need this spell to confirm he was pregnant. He needed the second spell. The one that would identify whose magical signature was embedded in the child's makeup. He sighed, hoping Harry wouldn't try to talk to him now. Harry didn't.

--X--

Madam Pomfrey bustled back into the room several minutes later. She, as much as anyone else in the Wizarding world who knew the situation Draco and Harry were now in, wished nothing more then that this test would give the desired results. Poppy was not looking forward to her part in this situation. She knew it was her job to do such medical procedures as pregnancy tests, but she had never before been asked to test for whether or not a young man had become impregnated by the Dark Lord's seed.

She ignored the pair of Harry's friends who stood near the door, and nodded to the blond. He looked grateful that she didn't try to speak. She waited while he pulled down the waistband of his boxers a bit more for a clear target, then she waved her wand, cast the spell, and noted the glow that had started up in the blonds' middle. No one there needed to be told what that meant.

Draco nodded more to himself then anyone else, and then raised his eyes to meet Madam Pomfrey's. He nodded again to tell her she should cast the next spell. She turned her attention back to the young man's belly, and cast her next spell.

--X--

Harry watched as the glow overtook Draco's stomach. He didn't yet know whether to be happy about it, or to curse Voldemort's name for ever touching Draco that way. But the next spell would end that.

He looked up at Draco, and then turned his gaze to the witch before looking back at Draco. Draco seemingly refused to look at Harry. But he nodded to Madam Pomfrey, and Harry turned his attention back to Draco's stomach.

He listened as the last spell was recited, and watched as colors seemed to pulse inside Draco. One pulse of light seemed to slowly swirl a silver-grey color with a green that very much resembled Harry's eyes. The other pulse of light swirled more violently, mingling the silver-grey and an angry, blood red.

--X--

Madam Pomfrey gasped.

Harry's eyebrows seemed to hit his hairline.

Draco blanched, tried to hold of his strong urge to vomit, and lost it over the side of the bed again.

Ron and Hermione clung to each other, though Ron was more confused, and Hermione was practically in mourning already.

Harry snapped himself out of shock to gently grab up Draco's hair again. He placed himself on the bed beside the blond man, and gently stroked his fingers through the soft hair.

When Draco was done emptying what little food he had eaten from his stomach, and Harry had spelled away the mess, Madam Pomfrey handed the blond a cup of cool water and stood nearby, watching.

When Draco looked up at her, so did Harry. Though she was pretty sure both young men knew what they had seen, she felt, as a medical professional, that she should confirm it.

"It seems, Draco, that you are pregnant. And we can conclude from that last spell, that while the desired outcome was achieved, you have, a hitchhiker of sorts. It appears that you carry both Harry Potter's, and Voldemort's children."

Draco nodded, his distaste at the thought evident.

"That, is exactly what I thought."


	22. Chapter 22

Draco had refused to go back to the bedroom after the testing

Draco had refused to go back to the bedroom after the testing. He insisted they should discuss the situation with people who might have ideas to fix it. While Harry agreed privately, he knew he had a point when he argued that they should rest for a while before falling headfirst into planning.

But Draco would hear none of it, and that was why they were now sitting in a large sitting room surrounded by Order members and close friends. The room was courtesy of the Room of Requirement, and had filled in record time; so much even, that Harry was sure that the room had stretched somewhat to accommodate everyone who wanted in.

Draco waited until everyone was settled, and then stood and used his wand, which Harry had handed back to him several days before, to cast Sonorus on himself to speak over the voices of the assembled group.

"It seems that the plan we originally hoped for has been successful." He stopped as voices rose up, murmuring general words of relief. "However," he continued, "It seems that Voldemort's plan succeeded also."

Molly Weasley's voice spoke out, her worry and confusion evident. "Whatever can you mean?"

Draco eyed the Weasley matriarch for a moment before explaining. "I am pregnant with twins. One is Harry's. The other is the Dark Lord's."

People were shaking their heads, expressing disgust, fear and outrage. "How could this happen!?" a voice cried out. "There has to be some way to kill that bastard's demon spawn!" yelled another. "But that's practically impossible!" sounded a third voice.

"It's the truth," Ron's voice boomed out over the crowd. "Hermione and I were in the room at the time the spells were performed. We both saw the lights of the children's power. One was green and silver. The other was red and silver." Everyone's eyes seemed to move to Hermione, as if Ron's word in this were not enough. She nodded that it was true.

Dumbledore stood up and made his way over to the couch where the blond stood and the brunette sat, uncharacteristically silent. He laid his hand on Draco's shoulder, momentarily forgetting that this was a young man who had experienced horrors inflicted on his body. He was reminded as Draco flinched away from him. "Don't touch me!" he snarled, anger flashing in his eyes. Just below his anger was fear, the old man could plainly see.

"My apologies Draco, I did momentarily forget."

Draco nodded and tried to shake himself out of the mental state he was currently in. It wouldn't do for him to crumble in fear just because someone touched him and triggered the memories. He had to be stronger then that.

"I daresay there might be some way to abort the unwanted child while keeping the other…"

The blonds head moved in dismissal of that idea. "One of the spells Voldemort placed on me was an old protective spell turned dark. Originally it was meant to aid pregnant women who were at great risk of losing children they had conceived. In the form Voldemort used, it is meant to bind the new life to my magic, so that the children cannot be lost without my own life becoming forfeit."

Dumbledore's normal sparkle left his eyes at that. He could see that Voldemort had planned that spell to be more then just a protection for his own possible children. The Dark Lord had left himself another way out of the prophecy. Had Draco not conceived his child, he would be able to, with one well placed spell, displace Draco's magical womb and kill both Harry's child – the weapon – and Draco, which would effectively leave Harry with no possible way to recreate his previous weapon. It was an evil, calculated, malicious plan. It was clearly just like Voldemort.

One of the Order member's Draco didn't know stood up. "Now, just for a minute, consider my point. If Draco would willingly submit to having Harry's child removed from his magical womb and placed in a surrogate, and then agreed to take Voldemort's spawn into death with him…"

"NEVER!" Harry's voice yelled out, effective and earsplitting even without Sonorus cast on himself. "How DARE you even suggest such a thing. Draco is my mate. I have claimed him. I accepted the bond! Do you realize that I have tied part of my very soul into Draco's life-force? Did you, even for a moment, think of what that might do to me, or to end your precious fight for good? Draco will not be submitting himself for death, Voldemort's child or no. We need a plan to deal with the situation we have now. And I don't want to hear any more suggestions about killing off Draco OR the child that isn't mine. You all understand?" Harry's wand was leveled on the crowd threateningly as his eyes scanned for any sign of decent. He found none.

Slowly he lowered his wand, feeling Draco's arm coming to rest around his back, giving him both support and strength. Several moments of silence passed, before Draco spoke again.

"So, any ideas?"


End file.
